Jr 


CO.  HTM.  PHII 


E     PATH  WAV     OF"    LITE 


The  PaMiwag  of  Life 

A  BOOK  FOR  THE  HOME,  A  BLESSED  GUEST  AT  THE  FIRESIDE. 


DESTINED  TO  LEAD  THE  YOUNG  AND  THE  OLD  INTO  PATHS  OF  HAPPINESS, 

AND   TO    PREPARE   THEM    FOR    A    HOLY    COMPANIONSHIP    WITH 

HIM  WHOSE  KINGDOM  IS  AS  BOUNDLESS  AS  HIS  LOVE. 


f\  Series  of  /T\atel?less  Essays, 

ABOUNDING  WITH   BEAUTIFUL  PRECEPTS,  AND  COUNSEL  FROM  A  RICH  EXPERIENCE, 
.     TEACHING  HOW  TO  ATTAIN  SUCCESS  AND  HONOR  AMONG  MEN,   WITH 
PRACTICAL   LESSONS  GLEANED  FROM  EXAMPLES 
OF  HISTORY  IN  PEACE  AND  WAR. 


INCLUDING  SKETCHES,    INCIDENTS,    AND    THRILLING    EPISODES    IN  THE    LIVES   OF   MIGHTY   MEN, 
CELEBRATED   WOMEN,    AND  THE   HEROES   OF   MARTYRDOM, 

WITH   DESCRIPTIONS   OF 

THE  MOST  FAMOUS  BATTLES  IN  THE  WORLD'S  HISTORY.         ' 

A    COLLECTION  OF  GRAND    AND    SPLENDID    THOUGHTS   FOR   FIRESIDE   READING,    SACRED 

REFLECTION,    AND   THE    ELEVATION    AND    HAPPINESS    OF   THE    HOME 

CIRCLE,  LEADING  TO  HIGHER  AND  NOBLER  LIVES. 


REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE,  D.  D., 

fHB  WO^IlD'S   1HOST   BUOgUBtfT  PREACHER  AflD   UlRITHP,. 


MAGNIFICENTLY   ILLUSTRATED  WITH    NEARLY  THREE    HUNDRED  ENGRAV- 
INGS FROM  THE  MASTERPIECES  OF  THE  WORLD,  AND 

SUPERS  COIiOP.Et)  PliflTES. 


B.  F=.  JOHNSON  St  CO,. 

RICHMOND,  iZK, 
1559. 


!  V : : 
•  ••••• 


'.  : :  •:  ••;.•. « 

• .  •••   ::  ..:.•*. 


Ti 


Copyright,   1888,  by  H.  S.  Smith. 
(ali<  rights  reserved.) 


*;;;*  The  illustrations  in  this  work  being  from  original  drawings,  and  protected 
by  copyright,  their  reproduction  in  any  form  is  unlawful,  and  notice  is  hereby 
given   that   persons   guilty   of  infringing   the   copyright   thereof  will   be   prosecuted. 


BLAZE  of  splendor  is  the  pictorial  part  of  this  book,  an  art  gallery  on  the 
wing.  You  need  not  visit  New  York,  or  Dresden,  or  Berlin,  or  Rome 
to  see  the  masterpieces,  for  the  best  part  of  them  is  now,  my  reader,  be- 
tween your  forefinger  and  thumb.  The  publishers  of  this  book  have 
ransacked  the  earth  for  these  three  hundred  and  thirteen  gems.  No  sub- 
i  _^§5^  fij\fl  scription  book  ever  published  has  had  such  beautiful  pictures.  Let  me 
open  the  door  for  these  queens  of  art. 

In  that  one  marvellous  picture  see  the  world  put  down  all  its  troubles 
at  Christ's  feet,  a  brook  emptying  into  an  ocean.  Behold  on  that  other 
page  the  representation  of  a  cross  all  abloom  with  prayer,  and  the  red 
roses  of  childish  health,  and  the  white  lilies  of  venerable  locks,  and 
empty  hands  uplifted  in  supplication,  and  full  hands  stretched  down  in 
supply,  enough  to  induce  all  the  world  to  cry  out,  "  Let  us  pray  !  "  On 
that  other  page  see  the  lion  of  persecution  and  the  face  of  Christian 
martyrdom  confront  each  other,  while  the  piled-up  tiers  of  the  Colosseum 
and  the  unseen  galleries  of  the  ages  look  down  upon  them.  But,  thank 
God,  that  old  lion  and  all  the  whelps  emerging  from  that  door  at  the  side  of  the  Colos- 
seum have  been  slain  by  the  Lion  of.  Judah's  tribe.  See  on  that  other  page  how  sym- 
pathetically Christ  treats  a  sick  child,  the  anxious  mother  looking  on.  I  warrant  that 
child  got  well,  for  what  sickness  could  baffle  such  a  Doctor?  Behold  on  that  other 
page  the  three  crosses,  goodness  in  the  centre,  recklessness  on  one  side,  and  penitence  on  the 
other.  Did  ever  a  silent  picture  have  so  many  voices  of  execration  and  worship,  humiliation  and 
victory,  crime  and  innocence,  hell  and  heaven  ?  Was  there  ever  such  a  centre  to  such  a  circum- 
ference ?  Of  what  crime  had  that  victim  on  the  middle  cross  been  guilty  that  He  should  be  made 
the  object  of  the  mob's  fury  ?  Guilty  of  only  one  crime,  the  crime  of  coming  to  save  a  world.  O 
my  soul !  was  there  ever  such  a  criminal,  was  there  ever  such  a  crime  !  But  I  cannot  walk  with 
you  all  round  this  Louvre,  this  Luxembourg,  this  Dusseldorf  of  paintings  and  engravings. 
Having  introduced  you  to  the  great  artists  I  must  let  them  take  you  the  rest  of  the  way.  Thank 
God,  morning,  noon  and  night,  for  pictures,  instructive  pictures,  inspiring  pictures  ! 

What  a  poor  world  this  would  be  if  it  were  not  for  pictures  !  I  refer  to  your  memory  and 
mine  when  I  ask  if  your  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  has  not  been  mightily  augmented  by 
the  wood-cuts  or  engravings  in  the  old  family  Bible,  out  of  which  father  and  mother  read,  and 
laid  on  the  table  in  the  old  homestead  when  you  were  boys  and  girls.  The  Bible  scenes  which 
we  all  carry  in  our  minds  were  not  gotten  from  the  Bible  typology,  but  from  the  Bible  pictures. 
To  prove  the  truth  of  it  in  my  own  case,  the  other  day  I  took  up  the  old  family  Bible  which  I 
inherited.  Sure  enough,  what  I  have  carried  in  my  mind  of  Jacob's  ladder  was  exactly  the  Bible 
engraving  of  Jacob's  ladder  ;  and  so  with  Samson  carrying  off  the  gates  of  Gaza  ;  Elisha  restor- 


MftdP.^Q 


ii  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  the  Shunainite's  son ;  the  massacre  of  the  innocents ;  Christ  blessing  little  children  ;  the 
Crucifixion  and  the  Last  Judgment.  My  idea  of  all  these  is  that  of  the  old  Bible  engravings 
which  I  scanned  before  I  could  read  a  word. 

The  great  intelligence  abroad  about  the  Bible  did  not  come  from  the  general  reading  of  the 
book,  for  the  majority  of  the  people  read  it  but  little,  if  they  read  it  at  all ;  but  all  the  sacred 
scenes  have  been  put  before  the  great  masses,  and  no  printer's  ink,  but  the  pictorial  art  must  have 
the  credit  of  the  achievement.  First,  painter's  pencil  for-  the  favored  few,  and  then  engraver's 
plate  or  wood-cut  for  millions  on  millions  ! 

In  this  connection  I  implore  all  parents  to  see  that  in  their  households  they  have  neither  in 
book,  nor  newspaper,  nor  on  canvas  anything  that  will  deprave.  Pictures  are  no  longer  the 
exclusive  possession  of  the  affluent.  There  is  not  a  comfortable  home  that  has  not  specimens  of 
wood-cut  01  steel  engraving,  if  not  of  painting,  and  your  whole  family  will  feel  the  moral  uplifting 
or  depression.  Have  nothing  on  your  wall  or  in  books  that  will  familiarize  the  young  with  scenes 
of  cruelty  or  wassail ;  have  only  those  sketches  made  by  artists  in  elevated  moods,  and  none  of 
those  scenes  that  seem  the  product  of  artistic  delirium  tremens.  Pictures  are  not  only  a  strong 
but  a  universal  language.  The  human  race  is  divided  into  almost  as  many  languages  as  there 
are  nations,  but  the  pictures  may  speak  to  people  of  all  tongues.  Volapuk,  many  have  hoped, 
with  little  reason,  would  become  a  world-wide  language,  and  printer's  types  have  no  emphasis 
compared  with  it.  We  say  that  children  are  fond  of  pictures  ;  but  notice  any  man  when  he  takes 
up  a  book,  and  you  will  se.'_  chat  the  first  thing  that  he  looks  at  is  the  pictures.  Have  only  those 
in  your  house  that  appeal  to  the  better  nature.  One  engraving  has  sometimes  decided  an  eternal 
destiny. 

At  the  Cyclorama  of  Gettysburg  one  day  a  blind  man,  who  lost  his  sight  in  that  battle,  was 
with  his  child  heard  talking  while  standing  before  that  picture.  The  blind  man  said  to  the 
daughter:  "Are  there  at  the  right  of  the  picture  some  regiments  marching  up  a  hill?"  "Yes," 
she  said.  "Well,"  said  the  blind  man,  "  is  there  a  general  on  horseback  leading  them  on?" 
"  Yes,"  she  said.  "Well,  is  there  rushing  down  on  these  men  a  cavalry  charge  ? "  "  Yes,"  was 
the  reply.  "And  do  there  seem  to  be  many  dying  and  dead  ?  "  "  Yes, "  was  the  answer.  "Well, 
now,  do  you  see  a  shell  from  the  woods  bursting  near  the  wheel  of  a  cannon?"  "Yes,"  she 
said.  "  Stop  right  there  !  "  said  the  blind  man.  "That  is  the  last  thing  I  ever  saw  on  earth! 
What  a  time  it  was,  Jenny,  when  I  lost  my  eyesight ! ' '  But  when  you,  who  have  found  life  a 
hard  battle,  a  very  Gettysburg,  shall  stand  in  the  Royal  Gallery  of  Heaven,  and  with  your  new 
vision  begin  to  see  and  understand  that  which  in  your  earthly  blindness  you  could  not  see  at  all, 
you  will  point  out  to  your  celestial  comrades,  perhaps  to  your  own  dear  children,  who  have  gon< 
before,  the  scenes  of  the  earthly  conflicts  in  which  you  participated,  saying:  "There,  from  that 
hill  of  prosperity  I  was  driven  back  ;  in  that  valley  of  humiliation  I  was  wounded.  There  I  lost 
my  eyesight.  That  was  the  way  the  world  looked  when  I  last  saw  it. ' '  But  what  a  grand  thing 
to  get  celestial  vision,  and  stand  here  before  the  cyclorama  of  all  worlds  while  the  Rider  on  the 
white  horse  goes  on  ' '  conquering  and  to  conquer, ' '  the  moon  under  His  feet  and  the  stars  of 
heaven  for  His  tiara  ! 

This  book  is  born  under  very  bright  skies.  Of  all  the  centuries  this  is  the  best  century,  and 
of  all  the  decades  of  the  century  this  is  the  best  decade,  and  of  all  the  years  of  the  decade  this  is 
the  best  year,  and  of  all  the  months  of  the  year  this  is  the  best  month,  and  of  all  the  days  of  the 
month  this  is  the  best  day.  Although  this  book  may  speak  of  griefs  and  wrongs,  it  is  with  full 
belief  that  there  is  a  catholicon  that  can  cure  anything  and  everything.  The  world  is  very  much 
what  we  make  it.  Show  me  the  color  of  a  man's  spectacles  and  I  will  tell  you  what  kind  of  a 
world  it  is.  Blue  spectacles,  a  blue  world.  Green  spectacles,  a  green  world.  Yellow  spectacles, 
a  jaundiced  world.  Transparent  spectacles,  the  beautiful  world  that  God  made  it.  The  first 
thing  is  to  have  the  heart  right,  the  second  is  to  have  the  liver  right.  My  friend  has  for  many 
years  been  troubled  with  indigestion.  Desirous  of  cheering  him  up  I  looked  out  of  the  window 
and  said:  "  That  snow  is  beautiful. "  He  answered :  "  It  will  turn  to  slush  and  sleet."  I  said : 
"  The  human  body  is  a  fine  piece  of  mechanism."     He  answered:  "Warts,  croup,  marasmus, 


INTRODUCTION.  iii 

corns,  bunions,  gout  and  indigestion."  I  hoisted  a  window  and  caught  one  of  the  flying  snow- 
nakes  and  put  it  under  a  microscope  and  said  :  "  I  see  God  walking  in  this  palace,  the  jewels  of 
heaven  are  in  these  vases ;  I  see  the  couriers  of  celestial  dominion  pawing  those  crystal  pave- 
ments." He  turned  up  his  coat  collar  and  said:  "lam  in  a  perfect  chill;  please  to  put  down 
that  window."  I  grew  vehement  and  said:  "You  must  have  noticed  that  this  is  a  splendid 
world  ;  all  the  looms  of  heaven  must  have  been  at  work  on  the  wing  of  a  kingfisher.  What 
morning  was  it  that  a  warble  slipped  heaven  and  this  oriole  plucked  it?  What  grotesque  rock 
(jf  the  mountain  hath  set  the  streams  into  roystering  laughter  ?  What  harp  of  heaven  gives  the 
pitch  to  the  music  of  the  south  wind?  There  is  enough  wisdom  to  confound  the  earth  and  the 
heavens  in  the  structure  of  one  cricket.  Even  the  weeds  of  the  field  are  dressed  like  the  daughters 
of  God,  and  men  may  sneer  at  their  commonness,  but  have  no  capacity  to  fathom,  or  climb,  or 
compass  the  infinity  of  beauty  in  a  dandelion  or  the  blossom  of  a  potato  top.  At  the  foot  of  this 
tuberose  angelic  equipage  must  halt  and  its  cohort,  climbing  the  winding  stair  of  leaf,  look  off 
upon  the  kingdoms  of  floral  wonder  and  the  glory  of  them.  On  a  summer  night  I  have  seen  the 
stars  of  heaven  and  the  dews  of  earth  married,  the  grass-blades  holding  up  their  fingers  for  the 
setting  of  the  wedding  signet,  while  voices  from  above  said,  '  With  this  ring  I  thee  endow  with 
all  my  light,  and  love,  and  splendor  celestial.'  At  sunset  I  have  seen  the  flaming  chariots  of 
God  drive  down  into  Lake  Winnipiseogee,  the  panting  nostrils  stirring  the  water  and  the  spray 
like  dust  tossed  from  the  glittering  wheels."  "Bosh!"  cried  my  invalid  friend,  "I  never  saw 
anything  like  that  in  all  my  life."  So  that,  handing  him  over  a  bottle  of  Hoofland's  Dyspeptic 
Hitters,  I  retired  to  my  room  to  consider  the  value  of  a  cheerful  spirit. 

The  most  of  the  things  of  this  life  may  be  set  to  music,  but  people  get  the  wrong  tune  and 
sing  Naomi  or  Windham  when  they  ought  to  set  things  to  the  music  of  Mount  Pisgah  and  Coro- 
nation. We  may  not  all  of  us  have  the  means  to  graduate  at  Harvard,  Yale  or  Oxford,  but  there 
is  a  college  at  which  all  of  us  graduate — the  college  of  hard  knocks.  Misfortune,  Fatigue,  Expo- 
sure and  Disaster  are  the  professors  ;  kicks,  cuffs  and  blows  are  the  curriculum  ;  the  day  we  leave 
the  world  is  our  graduation  ;  some  sit  down  and  cry  ;  some  turn  their  faces  to  the  wall  and  pout ; 
others  stand  up  and  conquer.  Happy  the  bee  that  even  under  leaden  skies  looks  for  blossoming 
buckwheat!  Wise  the  fowl  that,  instead  of  standing  in  the  snow  with  one  foot  drawn  up  under  the 
wing,  ceases  not  all  day  to  peck  !     Different  ways  of  looking  at  things. 

Raindrop  the  first :   "Always  chill  and  wet,  tossed  by  the  wind,  devoured  by  the  sea." 
Raindrop  the  second  :  "Aha  !    The  sun  kissed  me,  the  flower  caught  me,  the  fields  blessed  me." 
Brook  the  first :   "Alas,  me  !  struck  of  the  rock,  dashed  of  the  mill-wheel." 
Brook  the  second  :  "I  sang  the  miller  to  sleep,  I  ground  the  grist!     Oh,  this  gay  somersault 
over  the  wheel !     Over  the  wheel  !  " 

Horse  the  first :  "Pull,  pull,  pull;  this  tugging  in  traces  and  lying  back  in  the  breeching, 
and  standing  at  a  post  with  the  sharp  wind  hanging  icicles  from  my  nostrils." 

Horse  the  second  gives  a  horse  laugh  :  "Useful  life  I  have  been  permitted  to  lead.  See  that 
com  ;  I  helped  break  the  sod  and  run  out  the  furrows.  On  a  starlight  night  I  filled  the  ravines 
and  mountains  with  the  voice  of  jingling  bells  and  the  laughter  of  the  sleigh-riding  party.  Then 
to  have  the  children  throw  in  an  extra  quart  at  my  whinny,  and  to  have  Jane  pat  me  on  the  nose 
and  say,  '  Poor  Charlie  ! '  and  to  bound  along  with  arched  neck,  and  flaming  eye,  and  clatteriii;.. 
hoof,  and  hear  people  say,  '  There  goes  a  two-forty  ! '  " 

Bird  the  first :   ' '  Weary  of  migration  !     No  one  to  pay  me  for  song.     Only  here  to  be  shot  at. ' ' 
Bird  the  second  :   "I  have  banquet  of  a  thousand  wheat  fields.     Cup  of  lily  to  drink  out  of. 
Aisle  of  forest  to  walk  in.     Mount  Washington  under  foot  and  a  continent  at  a  glance  !  " 
Different  ways  of  looking  at  things  ! 

Judging  from  their  looks,  among  the  happiest  people  in  all  the  world  are  the  apple-stand 
women  knitting  under  their  umbrella  while  the>-  wait  for  customers,  rag-pickers  who  go  around 
with  a  dog-cart,  soap-fat  men  that  shake  the  streets  with  boisterous  racket,  day-laborers  that  break 
the  cobble-stones  and  put  down  their  chunk  of  salt  pork  with  an  appetite  that  kings  and  courtiers 
might  envy.     The  largest  number  of  complainers  you  shall  find  among  those  of  us  who  have 


iv  INTRODUCTION.      v 

lucrative  professions,  large  stores,  well-warmed  houses,  luxuriant  wardrobes  and  plenty  of  attend- 
ants. It  would  be  well  if,  when  tempted  to  complain,  we  would  go  down  to  see  how  other  people 
have  it.  Saadi,  the  poet  of  Persia,  in  his  poverty,  walked  the  streets  barefooted  and  soliloquized 
day  after  day  :  "What  a  pity  that  I,  the  greatest  poet  in  Persia,  should  have  no  shoes  !  "  "  Nc 
shoes!"  he  constantly  complained  to  himself,  until  one  day  he  met  a  man  who  had  no  feet. 
"Ah!"  he  said,  "that  man  is  worse  off  than  I  am.  I  have  no  shoes,  but  he  has  no  feet." 
According  to  my  calculation  in  the  six  thousand  years  of  the  world's  existence  there  must  have 
been  about  two  million  days  of  sunshine,  allowing  one  hundred  and  ninety-five  thousand  days  for 
storm.  Of  the  myriads  of  blossoms  on  my  peach  orchard  there  was  not  one  blossom  that  did  not 
beat  Walter  Scott's  Marmion  or  John  Milton's  Paradise  L,ost.  In  weeding  out  one  patch  of  canta- 
loupes I  threw  over  the  fence  about  five  thousand  Tennysons  and  Longfellows.  Nothing  but 
Omnipotence  could  have  made  legs  strong  enough  to  hold  up  the  great  Thanksgiving  table  of  a 
world.  Every  grasshopper  has  a  solo,  and  every  snow-flake  a  psalm,  and  every  honeysuckle  a 
censer,  and  every  pond-lily  is  a  gondola  for  eternal  glories  to  sail  in,  and  there  are  pyramids  in  the 
cones  of  the  white  pine,  and  the  place  of  the  sunset  is  where  the  river  of  Delight  flashes  into  the 
sea  of  the  great  Forever.     Amid  so  much  beauty  and  luxuriance  how  can  we  complain. 

It  would  be  well  if,  not  only  in  looking  at  our  own  condition,  but  at  other  people,  we  set  out 
the  sparkle  instead  of  the  gloom.  With  five  hundred  faults  of  our  own,  we  ought  to  let  somebody 
else  have  at  least  one.  When  there  is  such  excellent  hunting  on  our  own  ground,  let  us  not  with 
rifle  and  greyhound-pack  spend  all  our  time  in  scouring  our  neighbor's  lowlands.  I  am  afraid  the 
imperfections  of  other  people  will  kill  us  yet.  All  the  vessels  on  the  sea  seem  to  be  in  bad  trim 
except  our  schooner.  A  person  full  of  faults  is  most  merciless  in  his  criticism  of  the  faults  of 
others.  How  much  better,  like  the  sun,  to  find  light  wherever  we  look,  letting  j>eople  have  their 
idiosyncrasies  and  every  one  work  in  his  own  way.  But  people  in  the  critical  mood  groan  after 
what  they  call  the  good  old  days.  They  say  :  "Just  think  of  the  pride  of  people  in  our  time. 
Just  look  at  the  ladies'  hats  !"  Why,  there  is  nothing  in  the  ladies'  hats  of  to-day  to  equal  the 
coal-scuttle  hats  of  a  hundred  years  ago.  They  say  :  "Just  look  at  the  way  people  dress  their 
hair  !"  But  the  extremest  style  of  to-day  will  never  equal  the  top-knots  which  our  great-grand- 
mothers wore  put  up  with  high  combs  that  we  would  have  thought  would  have  made  our  great- 
grandfathers die  of  laughter.  The  hair  was  lifted  into  a  pyramid  a  foot  high.  On  the  top  of  that 
tower  lay  a  white  rosebud.  Shoes  of  bespangled  white  kid  and  heels  two  or  three  inches  high. 
Grandfather  went  out  to  meet  her  on  the  floor  with  coat  of  sky-blue  silk  and  vest  of  white  satin, 
embroidered  with  gold  lace,  lace  ruffles  around  his  wrist  and  his  hair  falling  in  a  queue.  O  ye 
modern  hair-dressers,  stand  aghast  at  the  locks  of  our  ancestry  !  They  say  our  ministers  are  all 
askew,  but  just  think  of  our  clergymen  entering  a  pulpit  with  their  hair  fixed  up  in  the  shape  of 
some  of  the  ancient  bishops.  The  great  George  Washington  had  his  horses'  hoofs  blackened 
when  about  to  appear  on  a  parade,  and  writes  to  Europe,  ordering  sent  for  the  use  of  himself  and 
family,  "  one  silver-laced  hat,  one  pair  of  silver  shoe  buckles,  a  coat  made  of  fashionable  silk,  one 
pair  of  gold  sleeve  buttons,  six  pairs  of  kid  gloves,  one  dozen  most  fashionable  cambric  pocket 
handkerchiefs,"  besides  ruffles  and  tucker.  Talk  about  dissipations,  ye  who  have  ever  seen  tha 
old-fashioned  sideboard  !  Did  I  not  have  an  old  relative  who  always,  when  visitors  came,  used  to 
go  upstairs  and  take  a  drink,  through  economical  habits  not  offering  anything  to  his  visitors.  On 
the  old-time  training  days  the  most  sober  men  were  apt  to  take  a  day  to  themselves.  Many  of  the 
fancy  drinks  of  to-day  were  unknown  to  them,  but  their  hard  cider,  mint  julep,  metheglin,  hot 
toddy,  and  lemonade  in  which  the  lemon  was  not  at  all  prominent,  sometimes  made  lively  work 
for  the  broad-brimmed  hats  and  silver  knee  buckles.  Talk  of  dissipating  parties  of  to-day  and 
keeping  of  late  hours  !  Why,  did  they  not  have  their  bees  and  sausage-stuffings  and  tea  parties 
and  dances  that  for  heartiness  and  uproar  utterly  eclipsed  all  the  waltzes,  lancers,  redowas  and 
breakdowns  of  the  nineteenth  century  ?  And  they  never  went  home  till  morning  !  And  as  to  the 
old-time  courtships,  oh,  my  !  Washington  Irving  describes  them.  Talk  about  the  dishonesties  of 
to-day  !  Why,  sixty  years  ago  the  Governor  of  New  York  State  had  to  disband  the  Legislature 
because  of  its  utter  corruption.     Think  of  Aaron  Burr,  Vice-President  of  the  United  States  and 


INTRODUCTION.  v 

coming  within  one  vote  of  being  President !  Think  of  the  ministry  having  in  it  such  men  as  Dean 
Swift  and  Sterne  !  The  world  was  then  such  a  bad  place  that  I  do  not  see  how  our  fathers  and 
mothers  could  have  been  induced  to  stay  in  it,  although  on  our  account  I  am  glad  they  consented. 

Notice  the  encouraging  fact  that  the  world  is  coming  under  the  domination  of  the  intelligent 
races.  The  great  characteristics  of  these  races,  as  you  trace  them  down  from  the  tenth  century  in 
England  until  this  present  hour,  are  their  love  of  liberty,  their  obedience  to  law  and  their  desire 
for  progress.  Wherever  they  advance  go  the  printing-presses  without  censorship  and  the  Bible 
without  arbitrary  interpretation,  prosperous  schools  and  powerful  churches  and  free  constitutions. 
The  other  races  seem  shrinking  away  before  the  inarch  of  the  intelligent  races  with  the  quick  brain 
and  the  hopeful  heart  and  the  brawny  arm.  They  now  own  more  than  the  eighth  part  of  the 
globe.  The  gold  mines  of  the  earth  are  in  their  possession,  the  Californias  and  the  Australias, 
and  they  hold  the  most  important  gateways  of  the  world's  commerce  and  power,  India  and  the 
Pacific  Islands,  and  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  Gibraltar  and  the  Red  Sea.  The  most  important 
discoveries  of  the  world  have  sprung  from  their  laboratory,  and  the  most  startling  inventions  have 
darted  from  their  brain.  While  these  races  have  sometimes  abused  their  power  and  sought  advance- 
ment in  improper  ways,  their  main  tendencies  have  been  right,  and  no  philanthropist  can  read  the 
tendencies  of  the  times  in  which  we  live  without  rejoicing  that  the  intelligent  races  are  becoming 
dominant  in  all  the  earth. 

Among  the  encouraging  signs  of  our  time  are  the  unparalleled  developments  of  the  earth's 
material  resources.  Year  by  year  the  world's  harvests  increase,  the  corn  fields  are  more  golden 
and  the  granaries  more  crowded.  New  weapons  have  been  formed  with  which  to  assault  the  earth 
and  make  it  surrender  its  treasures.  Vegetable  chemistry  has  made  the  dumb  earth  think  and 
natural  history  has  unfolded  a  world  of  practical  information  in  the  plants,  and  insects,  and  ani- 
mals, and  climatology  has  discussed  atmospheres,  and  geology  has  decided  great  questions  of  soil 
until  man  driven  forth  from  paradise  is  culturing  other  Edens  all  around  the  world.  L,iebig  in 
Germany,  and  Mulden  in  Holland,  and  Payen  in  France,  and  Anderson  in  England,  and  Silliman 
in  America  have  built  their  own  monuments  in  the  grain  fields,  and  gardens,  and  orchards  of  two 
hemispheres.  Steam-ploughs,  and  self-revolving  rakes,  and  mowing  machines,  and  sheaf-binders, 
and  threshers  of  iron-toothed  cylinders,  and  untold  varieties  of  curious  mechanism  with  which  the 
fields  and  bams  of  this  whole  laud  hum  and  quake  give  to  the  swarthiest  industry  attractions 
weird  and  romantic.  Under  the  favor  of  Him  who  sets  the  stars  in  their  courses  and  calls  them 
all  by  their  names  astronomy  has  within  the  last  few  years  made  splendid  discoveries  and  afforded 
advancement  to  the  arts,  and  given  facilities  to  navigation,  and  helped  settle  disputed  boundaries, 
and  surveyed  dangerous  coasts,  and  lifted  upon  the  world  the  very  grandest  evidence  of  God's 
power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness.  The  stars  that  in  their  courses  fought  against  Sisera  have 
been  marshalled  by  the  astronomer  to  fight  for  the  practical  interests  of  our  humanity.  Seventy 
years  ago  there  was  but  one  reliable  observatory  in  all  the  world,  and  that  the  observatory  at 
Greenwich.  Now  there  are  at  least  eighty  of  these  watch-towers  in  Europe  and  about  thirty  in 
the  United  States.  The  long-continued  study  of  refraction  by  some  of  the  first  men  of  the  age 
has  given  accuracy  to  scientific  tables  and  catalogues.  Mural  circles  and  achromatic  lenses  have 
multiplied  useful  apparatus.  The  resolution  of  nebulae  and  the  determination  of  the  parallax  of 
the  fixed  stars,  and  the  finding  of  the  cometary  orbits,  and  the  coming  put  to  human  observation 
of  Vesta,  and  Juno,  and  Ceres,  and  Pallas,  unknown  to  other  ages  of  the  world,  shpw  that 
astronomers  have  been  busy.  In  one  year  in  the  observatory  at  Washington  a  great  multitude  of 
fifteen  thousand  stars,  which  had  never  been  noticed  in  our  muster-roll  of  the  heavenly  host,  were 
recorded,  a  choir  of  light  and  beauty,  rank  above  rank,  enough  to  make  a  song  as  loud  and  sweet 
as  when  at  the  creation  the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy. 
There  has  not  only  been  advancement  in  sciences  before  known,  but  others  of  great  importance 
have  been  born  and  baptized  with  scientific  nomenclature  within  the  memory  of  many  now  living. 
Geology,  meteorology,  physical  geography  and  electro-chemistry,  although  they  have  already  done 
such  marvels  for  the  race,  may  be  called  young  sciences.  You  know  how  geography  has  unfolded 
the  wealth  and  glory  of  great  tracts  of  land  entirelv  unknown  in  the  last  centurv.     Into  its  wreath 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

of  conquest  it  has  woven  the  cactus  of  the  hidden  tropics,  and  into  its  crown  it  hath  set  the  crystals 
of  Arctic  ice.  Ross,  and  Parry,  and  Franklin,  and  Kane,  and  Schwatka,  and  De  Long  may  have 
failed  to  discover  the  northwest  passage  to  the  Pacific,  but  they  discovered  to  the  world  a  heroism 
and  self-sacrifice  for  the  cause  of  the  world's  knowledge  and  welfare  that  will  last  as  long  as  the 
pillars  of  ice  that  stand  as  tablatures  to  those  who  were  buried  beneath  them,  and  as  cenotaphs  to 
those  who,  worn  and  wasted,  came  home  to  die.  Humboldt  in  South  America  and  Mexico,  and  the 
United  States  Exploring  Expedition  on  the  western  coast  of  North  America,  and  the  British  Expe- 
dition on  the  southern  extremity  of  South  America,  and  Livingston  and  Stanley  travelling  in  the 
cause  of  discovery  among  the  wild  beasts,  and  the  fiercer  tribes,  and  the  deadliest  plagues  of 
Africa ;  Dr.  Robinson,  in  the  Holy  Land,  gathering  up  corroborations  of  Bible  statement,  and 
missionary  Thompson  in  Syria  finding  the  remains  of  ancient  cities  of  the  Bible  and  scriptural 
customs  still  in  existence,  and  Lieutenant  Lynch,  of  our  owu  navy,  exploring  Jordan  and  the  Dead 
Sea,  not  only  in  behalf  of  commerce,  but  to  the  advantage  of  that  kingdom  which  is  not  of  this 
world — all  these  only  give  us  a  feeble  idea  of  what  is  being  suffered  and  achieved  for  the  great 
cause  of  geographical  discovery. 

The  progress  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  is  another  encouraging  fact.  God  never  intended 
His  children  to  be  oppressed,  and  yet  gigantic  tyrannies  and  despotisms  have  walked  the  world 
over,  setting  their  iron  heel  on  the  necks  of  men  who  were  made  in  God's  own  image  and  who 
shall  be  great  in  the  coronations  of  heaven.  Ages  dragged  their  weary  lengths  along,  horrible 
with  midnight  shadow  and  ponderous  with  the  chains  of  oppression,  the  chopping  of  the  guillotine 
answering  to  the  crackling  of  the  fires  of  martyrdom.  How  much,  of  all  this  has  vanished  ! 
Within  fifty  or  sixty  years  the  earth  has  been  revolutionized.  From  the  time  of  the  French 
Revolution  of  1830  the  world  began  to  shake  off  the  horrid  nightmare,  and  to-day  there  are  in 
Europe  about  fifty  free  constitutions,  some  of  them  indicative  of  more  and  others  of  less  liberty, 
some  of  them  on  a  large  scale  and  some  of  them  on  a  small  scale.  But  what  a  crashing-down  of 
absolutism  !  What  an  advance  of  free  principles  !  Now  while  I  write  there  are  millions  of  brave 
hearts  all  over  Europe  who  are  waiting  for  the  moment  in  which  to  rise  with  their  majesty  and 
with  the  accumulated  wrath  of  ages  to  hurl  up  until  the  heavens  are  blackened  with  the  wreck  the 
governments  that  have  defied  God  and  trampled  upon  His  children.  And  in  that  day  the  little 
finger  of  this  struggling  cause  shall  be  mightier  than  the  glittering  bayonets  of  a  world  in  arms. 

Among  the  encouraging  things  in  regard  to  our  own  country  is  the  fact  that  all  sections  have 
come  to  the  most  thorough  feeling  of  amity  that  we  have  ever  had.  We  were  for  a  great  many 
years  under  the  delusion  that  we  were  at  peace  in  this  country,  but  there  never  has  been  any  peace 
until  within  the  last  twenty  years.  It  was  war  of  pen  and  war  of  speech.  Look  at  the  Congres- 
sional record  of  1830,  was  that  peace?  The  Congressional  record  of  1837,  of  1846,  of  1857,  of 
i860.  Was  that  peace?  No  !  Because  of  the  inimical  nature  of  the  interests  of  the  North  and  the 
South,  there  was  perpetual  collision.  It  was  free  labor  against  slave  labor  ;  it  was  Massachusetts 
against  South  Carolina ;  it  was  New  York  against  Virginia  representation ;  it  was  Charleston 
Mercury  against  Albany  Journal ;  challenge,  altercation  and  duel  all  over  the  land.  Even  at  the 
time  when  our  Northern  cities  were  in  riot  and  bloodshed  about  the  rendition  of  black  men  to  their 
owners,  we  were  under  the  delusion  that  we  were  at  peace.  Monstrous  absurdity  !  It  was  war. 
war  perpetual.  Pennsylvania  Hall  burned  on  account  of  this  political  agitation  in  the  city  of 
Philadelphia  !  Was  that  peace  ?  The  printing-press  of  the  Alton  Observer  thrown  into  the  river 
Was  that  peace  !  In  1820  the  air  was  hot  with  sectional  imprecation  about  the  admission  of  Mis- 
souri as  a  slave  State.  Was  that  peace?  Presbyterian  and  Methodist  churches,  North  and  South, 
split  with  a  fracture  that  shook  all  Christendom  on  account  of  political  agitation.  Was  that  peace  ? 
No  !  All  Billingsgate  and  scorn,  and  vituperation  and* hatred,  and  revenge  and  blasphemy  on  both 
sides  were  exhausted.  It  was  war  of  tongue,  war  of  pen,  war  of  trade,  war  of  Church — War  ! 
Bitter,  furious,  consuming,  relentless.  Thank  God  that  time  has  gone  by.  We  have  come  to  a 
new  state  of  feeling  and  brotherhood,  such  as  we  have  never  enjoyed,  and  our  Congress,  instead 
of  spending  nine-tenths  of  its  time  wasting  the  public  treasury  in  discussing  sectional  difficulties, 
as  it  used  to  do,  is  now  disposed  to  give  nine-tenths  of  its  time  to  the  discussion  of  the  agricultural, 


INTRODUCTION.  vii 

the  mining,  the  manufacturing,  the  commercial,  the  literary  and  the  moral  interests  of  this  nation. 
You  will  hear  the  anvil  ring  with  a  sturdier  blow.  You  will  see  the  furnace  glow  with  a 
fiercer  fire.  You  will  see  the  wheel-buckets  strike  with  a  swifter  dash.  We  have  a  land  capable 
of  supporting  three  thousand  six  hundred  millions  of  people ;  feeding  them,  clothing  them,  shel- 
tering them.  We  have  just  begun  to  open  the  outside  door  of  this  great  underground  vault  in 
which  nature  holds  its  treasures — the  copper,  the  zinc,  the  coal,  the  iron,  the  gold,  the  silver. 
What  populations,  what  industries,  what  enterprises,  what  wealth,  what  civilization  you  might 
argue  from  the  coal-fields  !  What  an  advance  from  the  time  when,  under  King  Edward,  a  man 
was  put  to  death  for  burning  coal,  and  from  the  time  when  the  House  of  Commons  forbade  the  use 
of  what  was  called  "the  noxious  fuel,"  and  these  days  when  the  long  trains  rush  down  from  the 
mines  and  fill  our  coal  bins  and  gorge  the  furnaces  of  our  ocean  steamers  !  One  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  square  miles  of  coal  fields — two  fields  of  coal,  one  reaching  from  Illinois  down  through 
Missouri  into  Iowa,  and  the  other  from  Pennsylvania  down  into  Alabama,  while  side  by  side  with 
these  great  coal  fields  are  the  mines  of  iron.  These  two  giants,  these  two  Titans  of  the  earth, 
iron  and  coal,  insuring  perpetual  wealth  to  the  nation,  standing  side  by  side  to  help  each  other, 
the  iron  to  excavate  and  pry  up  the  coal,  and  the  coal  to  smelt  and  forge  and  mould  the  iron. 
Eight  hundred  thousand  tons  of  iron  sent  forth  from  the  mines  in  one  year  in  this  country.  Thirty- 
two  million  tons  of  coal  sent  out  from  the  mines  of  this  country  in  a  year.  And  all  this  only  s 
prophecy  of  a  larger  yield  when  we  shall  come  on  with  longer  trains  and  more  miners  and  strongei 
machinery  to  develop,  to  gather  up,  to  transport  and  to  employ  all  this  treasure.  Make  this 
calculation  for  yourselves  if  you  can  make  it :  If  England's  coal  field,  thirty-two  miles  long  by 
eight  miles  wide,  can  keep,  as  it  does,  seventeen  million  six  hundred  thousand  spindles  at  work 
in  that  small  island,  what  may  we  not  expect  of  our  national  industries  when  these  one  hundred 
and  sixty  thousand  square  miles  of  coal  shall  unite  with  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
square  miles  of  iron,  both  stretching  themselves  up  to  full  strength  and  height,  tv/o  black,  world- 
shaking  giants  ? 

Lift  up  your  eyes,  O  nation  of  God's  right  hand,  and  see  the  approach  of  a  future  grand  with 
success  !  Build  larger  your  barns  for  the  harvests  !  Dig  deeper  the  vats  for  the  spoil  of  the 
vineyards  !  Enlarge  your  warehouses  for  the  merchandise  !  Build  larger  your  galleries  of  art  for 
statues  and  pictures  !  But  remember  that  national  wealth  unsanctified  is  voluptuous  waste,  is 
magnificent  woe,  is  splendid  rottenness,  is  gilded  death.  Woe  to  us  for  the  wine  vats  if  Drunken- 
ness wallows  in  them  !  Woe  for  the  harvests  if  Greed  sickles  them  !  Woe  for  the  merchandise  if 
Avarice  swallows  it !  Woe  for  the  cities  if  Misrule  ravages  them  !  Woe  to  the  land  if  God- 
defying  Crime  debauches  it !  Our  only  safety  is  more  Bibles,  more  pulpits,  more  free  schools, 
more  Christian  printing-presses.  And  therefore  I  contribute  my  mite  to  the  cause  by  sending 
forth  this  book. 

And  now  my  hearty  greeting  is  to  the  people.  Great  is  the  responsibility  of  publishing  a 
book,  especially  in  this  case,  where  the  publishers,  a  month  before  the  book  is  published,  have 
sold  250,000  copies  thereof,  an  unprecedented  occurrence  in  the  history  of  literature.  Among  the 
pleasant  thoughts  with  which  I  send  forth  this  book  on  "The  Pathway  of  Life,"  is  the  assur- 
ance that  it  is  to  have  the  companionship  of  the  greatest  painters  and  sculptors  of  all  nations. 
Good  morning,  Raphael,  and  Greenough,  and  Rembrandt,  and  Inman,  and  Giotto,  and  Coleman, 
and  Dore,  and  Kneller,  and  Joshua  Reynolds  !  Let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  you  to 
my  readers. 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  November  9,  1888. 


-C*. 


17-26 


EASTER  MORNING. 
The  Angels  Of  the  Grass— John  Bunyan,  the  dreamer— Sermon  of  the  lily— The  lily  family— A  banquet 
on  Nightingale's  tongues — Evangels  of  the  sky  — Flowers  for  the  bridal  day — Dear  memories— 
Flowers  for  the  dead— Old  Mortality  among  the  gravestones — The  floral  gospel — The  sepulchre  in 
the  garden— Religious  symbolism— Death  of  the  flowers— Christ  the  rose  and  the  lily— Emblems  of 
the  Resurrection — Bursting  the  sepulchre  door — Resurrection  morn — The  last  sleep — The  dead 
aroused — The  procession  of  immortals 

BLESSINGS  IN  ADVERSITY. 

Harvest  Time  in  Bethlehem— The  gleaners— Effects  of  trouble— The  sweetness  of  sorrow— Adversity 
the  great  educator — Beside  the  death-bed — A  winged  horse — Tried  by  the  fires  of  persecution — .jut 
national  distresses — The  royalty  of  friendship — Job's  troubles — Destruction  of  reputations — Faithful- 
ness of  the  Marys  and  of  Ruth — Darkness  and  dawn — The  harvest  field  of  God's  mercy — Drinking 
the  gall  -The  scoffers  at  Noah— Persecutors  of  Christ — Little  incidents  that  change  lives — Marti*. 
Luther — Female  industry — Greatness  from  small  beginnings ...       27-38 

THE  VALUE  OF  BEREAVEMENTS. 

The  Scourging  of  Jesus— Vinegar  for  the  Dying  Christ— Bitter  sweet— The  worm  in  Solomon's  staff— 
What  is  fame?— The  great  sympathizer — The  sourness  of  pain— To  whom  shall  be  given  the  brightest 
crowns?— The  cup  of  bitterness — The  vanity  of  wealth  and  of  genius— Goldsmith's  poverty — The 
poverty  of  Jesus — The  crape  on  the  door — The  trinkets  that  will  be  used  no  more — Christ  in  grief — 
Wailing  for  Lazarus — The  hour  of  death— The  season  of  everlasting  love — Taking  the  sorrows  of  the 
world  — Herschel,  the  astronomer  —Nana  Sahib  and  his  precious  ruby .       39-48 

CHRIST'S  KINGDOM  ON  EARTH. 

Christians  Devoured  by  Lions — Division  of  the  earth — Evangelization  of  the  world — Greenland  once  a 
blooming  garden  —All  flowers  descended  from  the  Arctic  region — Deserts  to  be  reclaimed  —A  new 
apportionment— What  of  certain  buildings  ? — Imported  abominations — Livingstone  in  Africa — The 
richness  of  China — Christian  farmers— Julius  Caesar  and  King  Juba — The  division  of  heaven — Apos- 
tolic residences  in  the  skies — Meetings  in  heaven — Dividing  the  spoils — As  ye  sow,  so  shall  ye  reap — 
Squeezing  into  heaven —Crowns  for  the  patient  invalid — The  twelve  gates — The  last  day-  Queen  Vic- 
toria distributing  the  Crimean  prizes — The  final  reward — Medals  for  bravery — A  magnificent  pageant 
of  Roman  victors — Procession  of  the  redeemed 


49-60 


SWEET  CONTENT. 


The  Hegira  of  the  Rich  —Our  fashionable  summer  resorts — The  luxury  of  health — Napoleon  and  his 
gout  — Original  and  the  copy— God's  glory  in  the  skies  and  pictures  on  canvas — Cheerful  in  poverty— 
An  old  apple  woman — Disappointments  in  Wall  street — Nero  growling  on  his  throne — A  song  from 
the  wreck — Where  ambition  sleeps — Weeds  cover  the  gravestone — Egyptian  guano— Departed  great- 
ness—Caesar, Lycurgus,  Xerxes,  Nebuchadnezzar,  Cleopatra,  Cromwell,  the  czars  and  kings  of  his- 
tory— The  robe  of  a  Saviour's  love —The  rest  that  shall  be  ours — I  am  the  resurrection (1-69 

*  TO  YOUNG  WOMEN. 

The  True  Position  of  Woman — Man's  better  part — Drones  that  afflict  society — Unhappy  marriages — 
The  dove  that  married  a  vulture — The  hand  of  the  inebriate — Sacrifices  to  rum  and  war — Why  so 
many  unmarried  women — Masculine  companionship  not  necessary  to  happiness — The  science  of  self- 
support — False  dependence — Appropriate  occupations — Female  employments — How  to  reach  the 
top — Romantic  ideas — Apprenticeships  necessary — Two  sad  sights — Broken  vessels — Woman's  wages 
to  increase — Justice  to  women — Women  who  have  won  their  way — Daughters  of  the  regiment,      .     .       70-81 

(viii) 


CONTENTS.  ix 

TO  THE  WOMEN  OF  AMERICA.  page 

The  Drunken  JJabal — An  insult  to  David — Abigail,  the  beautiful — The  courtship  of  Nabal — A  June 
morning  smiling  on  a  March  squall — An  every-day  tragedy — Mme.  Roland,  of  history,  and  her  sad 
death — Lengthening  the  average  of  human  life — Prayer  in  lordly  castles — Great  men  as  evangelists — 
)ur  literary  companions — A  picture  from  life — Rich  but  profligate — The  master  and  slave — A  broken 
heart — A  prisoner  in  a  gilded  castle — Woe,  woe — Two  ducal  palaces — Villains  to  be  expurgated  and 
fumigated — An  unclean  foreign  dignitary — The  drunken  bridegroom — A  royal  marriage — Cleopatra's 
ruse  to  see  Caesar — Behold  the  bridegroom 82-93 

WOUNDED  LOVE. 

General  .Teplltliah's  Vow — His  defeat  of  the  Ammonites — Meeting  with  his  daughter — A  wave  of  sorrow 
and  the  sting  of  regret  —The  sacrifice  of  Jephthah's  daughter— Broken  promises — Victims  to  false 
vows — The  sacredness  of  a  promise — The  family  of  furies — Exceptional  cases — Marriage  of  Robert 
Burns — The  recreant  captain — Betrothal  a  solemn  act — Infamies  of  history — No  excuse  for  making 
mistakes — Insincerity — Divorce  a  last  resort — Make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain — Incompatibility — The 
patience  of  Job — What  a  wife  can  do — A  brave  engineer — Death  of  Queen  Elizabeth 94-108 

DOMINION  OF  FASHION. 

True  Accomplishments — Sin  of  rudeness — Ancient  Scythians — Value  of  a  crest — Vanity  in  dress — Poor 
butterflies — Revelations  of  high  life — Physical  disease,  mental  imbecility  and  spiritual  withering — 
Harvest  of  death — Tumbling  into  ruin — Shadows  of  gravestones  upon  finest  silk — Tumult  of  the  last 
day — Fashion  in  church — Death  of  the  vain  man — A  wandering  star— Close  of  a  life  of  fashion  — 
Death-beds  of  noted  Christian  women — Queen   Elizabeth  and  King  Ferdinand 109-115 

TO   THE   FEMALE    TEACHER. 

Among-  the  Splendors  of  Ahasuerus'  Palace — The  gathered  magnificence  of  Persia — The  gleaming 
glories  of  Shushan — The  revelry  of  inebriated  feasters — Queen  Vashti  and  the  Princesses  of  Persia — 
Mandate  of  the  King — Vashti's  disobedience — Vashti  the  sacrifice— The  glory  of  a  true  woman — The 
great  female  heroes  of  history — A  tribute  to  female  teachers — Father  is  dead — Thrown  on  her  own 
resources — A  teacher's  life— A  noble  old  school-marm — Anecdote  of  Scarron — Gcethe  and  Shakes- 
peare's ideas  of  women— Heroines  of  the  two  great  poets — Vashti  the  veiled— Great  women  of  his- 
tory— Women  clothed  in  a  hurricane  of  millinery — "  Vashti  has  lost  her  veil  " — The  injustice  of  our 
laws — Discriminations  against  women — Can't  wait  for  female  suffrage — Vashti,  the  outcast — Martyrs 
to  duty— Burning  of  the  "  Prairie  Belle  "—The  scoffers  at  Galileo — Copernicus  reviled — Martyrdom 
of  the  reformers — The  frozen  crew  on  duty — An  incident  in  the  siege  of  Rome, 1 16-130 

AHAB  AND  JEZEBEL. 

Ahab  Covets  Naboth's  Vineyard — Wicked  Jezebel's  advice — The  stoning  of  Naboth — Elijah's  prophecy — 
Horrible  fate  of  Ahab  and  his  queen — The  result  of  a  wife's  bad  advice — The  dogs  devour  Jezebel — 
Wifely  ambition— Illustrious  examples  of  wifely  devotion — Judith  slays  Holofernes — The  wife  of 
Andrew  Jackson — The  mother  of  Washington — Pliny's  guardian  spirit — Testimonies  to  wifely 
virtues— Thomas  Carlyle  and  his  neglected  wife — The  bulls  and  bears  of  Wall  street — American 
politics — Ruined  by  his  wife's  social  ambition — Deborah's  Shibboleth— In  the  teeth  of  public 
opinion — Home  influence  on  husbands — Great  men  who  have  left  no  descendants — The  siege  of 
Troves — Execution  of  Joan  d'Arc — Faithful  wives'  reward— Consecrated  women, 131-144 

POSITION  IN  LIFE. 

An  Important  Qnestion — A  popular  error — Our  joys  ever  increasing — Greenough,  the  artist,  happy  in 
his  poverty — Solomon's  vexations— The  metaphor  of  a  grain  of  corn — Mistakes  about  happiness — 
Little  satisfaction  in  social  position — Napoleon  and  Josephine — A  fine  prospect — A  sad  awakening 
from  a  joyous  dream  —  Observation  of  a  rich  English  lord — Usefulness  in  home  circles — Gathering 
wrinkles — Bitter  repentance— Ghastly  memories — Personal  charms  of  women — The  hoof-marks  of 
time — Ac  affecting  scene  in  a  hospital — -The  wounded  drummer  boy's  message — Abominable 
fashions — The  robe  of  righteousness — Good  night  to  tears  and  poverty — Death  of  the  orphan — Good 
morning  in  heaven, 145-15* 

GRANDMOTHER. 

Timothy's  Good  Grandmother — Margaret,  the  mother  of  criminals — Good  women  whose  tombstones 
mark  a  gracious  influence — Old  times — -Women  of  the  last  century—  Volney's  opinion  of  American 
women  in  1796 — Depreciating  our  grandmothers — The  march  of  improvement — Blessed  grandmother 
Lois — A  picture  gallery  of  wrinkled  faces — Maternal  influence — The  ocean  of  eternity  into  which  the 
streams  of  life  empty — Rolling  on  and  forever — Reckoning  the  end  of  time — A  beautiful  tradition — 
Honesty  in  our  care  of  children — -Good  examples — George  Miiller,  the  philanthropist — A  familiar 
sight  explained — Isabella  Graham's  letter  to  God — Seeking  the  beloved  face  in  heaven — My  grand- 
mother— Respect  for  old  age — The  golden  city,     .     .  157-167 


x  CONTENTS. 

SONGS.  PAGB 

The  Song  Echoes  in  our  Hearts— Music  in  the  household— The  empty  cradle — Bitter  desolation— Death 

of  a  child — The  old  man's  song — The  old  meeting-house — The  resurrected  hymn — The  night  song 

The  night  of  trouble — "Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul  "—Songs  for  the  sick— For  the  desolate  heart — For 
the  soldier  in  camp — All  tongues  in  praise — The  everlasting  song — The  harvest  song — A  sailor's 
song — Millions  of  little  ones  before  the  throne — Sacrifice  of  the  innocents — The  great  singers  of  his- 
tory— The  choir  of  heaven — Listening  to  the  music  of  angels — Henry  V.  at  Agincourt, 168-177 

PROFANITY. 

The  Story  of  Job — His  afflictions  and  vexations — Profanity  everywhere — A  traveller's  memoranda — 
Youthful  sinners— No  manliness  in  swearing — Where  children  learn  to  swear — How  the  habit 
begins — The  vocabulary  of  good  and  more  expressive  words — No  excuse  for  using  vile  language — 
Profanity  on  the  increase — Kissing  the  book  — Irreverence  of  the  oath — How  I  overcame  the  habit — 
Profanity  accurses  this  life— A  swearer  struck  dead — Blasphemers  punished — Injustice  to  God — End 
of  sin  and  crime — A  storm  on  the  mountain — Stemming  the  tide — Destruction  of  the  Israelites,     .     .   178-189 

A  FALLING  STAR. 

Attila,  King  of  the  Hnns—  The  star  wormwood — Legend  of  the  wounded  heifer — The  scourge  of  God — 
Overrunning  the  east  with  700,000  followers—  A ttila's  death — The  brilliancy  of  his  armor — Slain  by 
his  bride — Buried  in  three  coffins,  of  iron,  silver  and  gold — The  bitterness  in  our  lives — Destruction 
of  great  cities — -The  end  of  Tyre  and  of  ancient  Thebes — Relics  of  former  splendors — Why  Babylon 
fell — Incomparable  magnificence — The  land  of  dazzling  beauty  now  a  waste  of  desolation — Where 
the  nation's  safety  lies — Results  of  drunkenness  and  licentiousness — The  falling  star 190-197 

JEALOUSY. 

The  Haggard,  Furious  and  Diabolical  Sin— Grief  at  the  superiority  of  others— The  first  case  of  jeal- 
ousy— Jealousy  of  Caligula — Spanish  courtiers  jealous  of  Columbus — Crimes  of  Dionysius — Jacob  and 
Esau— Antony  against  Cicero — Infamy  of  Tiberius — Jealousy  of  Napoleon — The  Prodigal  Son  — 
A  passion  that  annoys  the  world — Jealousy  of  nations — Efforts  to  depreciate  great  men — Garfield's 
death-bed — Jealousy  in  the  clerical  and  all  other  professions — Like  cutting  a  roasted  ox — Dissecting 
a  character — Punishment  of  Albert  Barnes — Some  good  counsel — The  Duke  of  Danzig — A  substi- 
tute— How  Jesus  answered   His  accusers — Timothy  Poland's  poem 198-209 

THE   SOUL. 

The  World  a  Grand  Property — Exquisite  descriptions  of  God's  beautiful  creations— The  heart  of  the 
world  a  burning  coal — Geologists  and  astronomers  searching  out  God's  secrets — Apples  of  ashes — 
Troubles  of  great  men — How  to  measure  a  man's  property — The  undertaker  called  in — The  soul,  its 
delicacy,  and  not  to  be  repaired — The  value  of  a  soul — The  victor  crowned — A  great  diamond — A  pro- 
cession of  the  ages — Story  of  an  heroic  sailor — Vicarious  suffering, 210-219 

AGNOSTICISM. 

Solar  Eclipse  at  the  Destruction  of  Jernsalem— The  archangels  of  malice — Destruction  of  the  sun- 
Terrible  results — The  world  a  glacier — Infidelity  belongs  to  tragedy — The  degradation  of  woman- 
hood—The fury  of  a  Clytemnestra — Women  in  Christianity  and  Paganism — The  fear  of  punishment — 
A  voice  crying,  "There  is  no  hell !" — Bible  restraints — As  the  Infidels  would  have  it — The  army  of 
atheists — Hewing  down  the  Cross — Desecration  of  sacred  shrines — A  nefarious  plot — Obliteration  of 

freat  works — The  world  a  mad-house,  a  lazaretto  and  a  pandemonium — Stand  back  from  the  chasm — 
he  sun  that  shot  out  like  an  electric  spark  from  God's  finger — Christianity  to  capture  the  world,       .  220-231 

MARVELS  OF  GENIUS. 
Demolition  of  the  Assyrian  Host— The  lame  must  do  their  duty— The  blind  poets,  Homer,  Ossian  and 
Milton — Prescott,  the  historian — Alexander  Pope's  infirmity — The  afflictions  of  Demosthenes,  Bacon, 
Byron  and  Scott — Columbus  and  Ferguson — The  great  invalids — The  deaf  and  dumb — Legend  of  St. 
Modobert — The  toilers,  and  the  rejected  of  men— A  lame  old  man — A  good  deed  abundantly  blessed — 
The  letter  that  was  never  posted — Emerging  from  difficulties — What  workingmen  have  done — Great 
engineering  feats— Sabbath-school  teachers— Saving  a  little  child — The  royal  family— The  dying 
pilot — In  the  harbor 232-24; 

DRUNKENNESS. 
Saturday  Afternoon  Closing — How  the  poor  man  may  become  a  capitalist — Expenditures  for  rum — A 
dreadful  showing — Effects  of  liquor  on  the  system — Abstainers  healthier  than  drinkers — A  Russian 
inspection — Saturday  afternoons  free  but  sober,     .     .  • 243-245 

GENERAL  JOSHUA. 
The  Siege  of  Ai— Joshua's  strategy — Capture  of  the  city— About  face  and  charge — Cheer  for  the  triumphs 
of  Israel — Victorious  retreat — What  are  you  reading ? — -St.  Bartholomew  massacre— Execution  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey — Persecution  of  the  Protestants — Jesus  of  the  ages — Santa  Anna's  retreat — The 
powers  of  darkness — Triumph  of  the  wicked — Destruction  of  the  wicked — Importance  of  taking 
good  aim — The  bravery  that  confronts  steel  and  bullet — Parade  soldiers — Which  side  are  you  on  ?     .  246-255 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CONSTELLATIONS  OF  THE  REDEEMED.  page 

Every  Man  has  a  Thousand  Branches — The  force  of  evil  influence — How  a  community  was  changed  by 
good  example — The  swifr  feet  of  prayer — An  incident  of  the  Mexican  War — Prayer  swifter  than 
electricity — George  Miiller's  efficacious  prayer — How  to  pray — The  resources  of  the  Lord — Capture 
of  Gibraltar — Christian  bombardment — Luminosity  of  the  planets — A  tour  of  redemption — Like  the 
stars — Graves  of  the  unknown — The  solar  system  likened  to  a  company  of  children — Galaxy  of 
joy — Flight  of  worlds — Measuring  the  planets — A  glory  that  never  fades— Burial  of  the  stars — 
Cohorts  tumbling  out  of  heaven 256-267 

HOW  TO  PROLONG  LIFE. 

Religion  Associated  with  Sick  Beds  and  Graveyards— The  saving  health  of  all  nations— Remarkable 
longevity — Mere  dwarfs — Distinguished  descendants  of  the  African  race — Curiosities  of  the  body — 
Paul  in  need  o(  au  overcoat — Physical  health — Body  and  soul  Siamese  twins— Dead  from  excite- 
ment— Upholstery  of  the  midnight  heavens — The  human  body  is  God's  -watch — Dissipations  that 
destroy  health — Religion  promotive  of  longevity— Byron  his  own  Mazeppa — Poe  putting  the  raven 
in  his  soul — Napoleon  killed  by  a  snuff-box — Worry  and  trouble — God  rich  enough  to  provide  for  all 
our  wants — A  beautiful  sickness — A  wound  that  was  the  badge  of  honor — Frederick  Frelinghuysen — 
Comforting  assurances — A  series  of  experiments — The  sacrifice  to  accept — All  things  shall  be  given 
to  the  righteous, 268-279 

A  SHIPWRECK. 

A  Memorable  Storm  on  the  Mediterranean — Shipwreck  of  Paul — Destruction  of  the  vessel  —  Escape  of 
the  crew — Thank  God,  all  are  here — The  great  Gospel  ship — Creeds  and  articles  of  faith — The  Andover 
controversy — Take  to  the  plank — Not  only  faith,  but  good  works  necessary  to  salvation — One  who 
doesn't  believe  in  hell — Another  who  condemns  revivals — Settling  difficulties— Believe  in  something — 
Nelson's  blind  eye — Vicarious  suffering— Lost  at  sea  trying  to  save  others — Come  in  on  the  Cross — 
Once  a  skeptic — Death-bed  scenes,     .  280-290 

CHRISTMAS. 

The  Ages  Cry  for  a  Christ — The  most  poetic  figure  of  the  centuries — The  coming  of  Christ — Man's  cruelty 
to  animals — Jesus  cradled  among  the  speechless  animals — A  plea  for  humane  treatment — The  birth  of 
Christ — Honoring  childhood— Not  only  a  child,  but  an  immortal — ;A  recess  in  heaven — How  a  child 
decided  Waterloo — How  a  child  decided  Gettysburg — Science  honored — Great  men  who  are  Chris- 
tians— The  fields  honored — Distinguished  men  of  American  history — The  mother — Artists  whose 
ideals  are  found  in  their  mothers — The  death  of  mother — We  are  coming — Calm  land  beyond  the  sea,  291-301 

AMUSEMENTS. 

1 1  the  Temple  of  Dagon — Samson,  the  blind  giant — Pulling  down  the  temple  upon  his  tormentors — 
Sinful  amusements — The  world  for  God's  own  children — Proper  recreation — Cultivation  of  the  voice 
and  of  music — Raising  up  the  depressed  soul  — How  Waterloo  was  won — The  gymnasium  com- 
mended— Effects  of  food  upon  the  body — Martin  Luther  mighty  in  mind  and  body — Parlor  games 
commended — Bounding  health— Out-door  sports — The  pleasure  and  healthfulness  of  doing  good — 
Cheerful  looks  and  words — Moravian  missionaries — Result  of  sinful  amusement — A  wasted  life  — 
Prophesying  death 302-315 

CHILDREN. 

Judge  Eli  and  His  Two  Bad  Boys — Receipt  of  ill  news — Death  of  the  two  sons  and  a  fatal  shock  to  Eli — 
An  all-conquering  army — An  incident  of  the  war  between  Frederick  II.  and  Maria  Theresa — The  boy 
of  to-day  to  be  ruler  of  the  future — A  shield  of  insufferable  splendor — Errors  in  the  training  of  chil- 
dren— John  Milton's  domestic  blunders— The  drudgery  enforced  on  his  daughters — A  cruel  father — 
John  O'Groat's  eccentricity — The  family  scapegoat — Dangers  of  over-indulgence — Necessity  of  study- 
ing a  child's  disposition — Adapting  yourself  to  requirements — Godls  hints  to  parents — Treasures  in  a 
shattered  casket — Religious  restraint  essential — Suppression  of  child '.sh  sportfulness — Let  them 
romp  — Study  and  play— The  beauty  of  early  piety — The  dying  mother's  request, 3l6-33l 

JESUS. 

Are  the  Planets  Inhabited  1 — Proofs  that  they  are — A  glimpse  of  heaven — Gardens  in  perpetual  bloom — 
What  is  death  ? — The  wealth  of  the  prince — Solomon's  riches  -A  fallen  world — Christ's  arrival  on 
earth — His  great  poverty — A  chilling  reception — Pompey's  glory — Treading  the  wine-press  alone — 
Cleopatra's  banquet — The  grace  of  God — Story  of  the  old  Scotchman — Anecdote  of  Artaxerxes — The 
seven  wise  men  of  Greece— An  apothegm  for  each 332-340 

CONCORD  AND  DISCORD. 

Laying  of  the  Corner-Stone — Svmphonies  of  nature— A  musical  portfolio — The  harp-string  broken — 
Infirmities  of  society — A  shipwreck  of  harmonies — Svmbolisms  of  nations — Fond  of  contention — 
The  Devil's  sonata — A  singular  dream — Anecdote  of  Bach — Moral  discord— The  Dusseldorf  jubilee — 
The  cost  of  war — Overture  of  the  morning  stars — Mozart's  greatest  composition — An  instrument  to 
attune  the  world — The  anvil  chorus — Compass  of  the  human  voice — A  new  song — The  Great  Peace 
Jubilee  in  Boston — A  thrilling  incident — Parepa  Rosa's  Star-Spangled  Banner 34I_35' 


xii  CONTENTS. 

FORBIDDEN  HONEY.  page 

Ingenuity  of  the  Honey  Bee — Celebration  of  the  bee  in  fable — Some  wonderful  facts — The  forbidden 
honey — Jonathan's  disobedience — Pernicious  literature — Corrupt  influence  of  bad  books — Filling  life 
with  husks  and  cinders — Good  books — The  false  honey  of  stimulants  —Recipes  for  curing  the  drunken 
habit— Ominous  names  of  intoxicants— False  security — Infatuation  for  strong  drink  -The  gamester's 
indulgence — Faro  and  card  playing — Stock  gambling — Victims  of  Wall  street — Fatal  accident — Seek 
only  the  honey  of  heaven — The  ambrosia  of  life — Fuueral  of  a  Norse  king  -  End  of  the  Poet  Shelley,  352-363 

THE  SECRET  OF  SUCCESS. 

Nothing  can  Keep  a  Good  Man  Down — The  success  of  Joseph — Chrysostom's  brave  answer  to  Eudoxia — 
Monuments  of  the  Christian  religion — An  unfair  comparison — Persecutions  bring  victories — The  fires 
of  the  stake — Crime  will  out — Tne  sale  of  Joseph — Saul's  cupidity  discovered — Easier  to  sin  than  to 
escape  the  consequences — All  events  linked  together — A  small  incident  that  defeated  Napoleon's 
Egyptian  expedition — God's  plans  beyond  our  comprehension — Defeats  and  victories  are  twin 
brothers — Anecdote  of  Dr.  Kennedy — Every  famine  has  a  storehouse 364-371 

ROYAL  WOMANHOOD. 

The  Imperial  Character  of  a  Good  Woman — The  coronation  of  women — The  widow's  son — The  ministers 
of  home — A  hard  death — The  blessed  home— Woman's  heroism — Friends  of  the  poor — Dangerous 
fruit — God  protects  the  charitable — Helen  Chalmers  among  the  poor — Soliciting  charities — Tell  your 
troubles  to  your  wife — A  friend  in  every  emergency — Woman's  opportunity — Rest  in  heaven  — 
Winning  the  crown •     .     .     .  372-382 

EMPLOYMENTS  IN  HEAVEN. 

Ezekiel'S  Vision  of  Heaven  -  What  are  our  departed  friends  doing  ?—  Effects  of  conversion — How  to  deter- 
mine the  occupations  in  heaven — Surfeited  with  good  things — Continuing  our  trades  and  professions 
— The  celestial  art  gallery — The  soul  shall  sing — Musical  instruments  of  heaven — An  anecdote  of 
Haydn — The  church  militant — The  mathematics  of  heaven —  Brave  spirits  who  sought  to  reach  the 
North  Pole — Astronomers  and  chemists  in  celestial  inquiry — Authors  in  heaven — A  wonderful  place  to 
visit — Meeting  with  noted  people — The  Scotch  Covenanters — A  place  of  perpetual  love — The  tomb- 
stone the  starting-post — The  cathedral  bell  of  heaven — A  dream  of  heaven — Home!  Home!  Home!  .  383-357 

DELUSIONS. 

Divination  to  Find  the  Will  of  God — Two  modes  practised  in  Babylon — Oracles  and  Sibyls — The  Delphic 
oracle — An  impostor  in  New  York — Is  Christianity  a  delusion  ? — Anecdote  of  Admiral  Farragut — 
Swaying  noble  intellects — Testimonies  of  great  men — The  death-bed  filled  with  happy  anticipations 
— "Mother,  catch  me,  I  am  coming" — A  sustaining  belief — Last  words  of  dying  Christians — A 
glorious  delusion — The  reclaimed  drunkard — Some  rich  fools 398-406 

BOOKS. 

Paul  in  Ephesus — A  big  bonfire  of  bad  books — A  great  agency  for  good  or  bad— The  printing-press — 
Pernicious  literature  filling  our  jails  and  poor-houses — The  tree  of  life  and  of  death — Books  that  are 
good — Baleful  novels — The  truly  great  novelists — Moral  and  physical  effect — A  woman  who  devotes 
her  time  to  novels — Great  evils  from  small  causes — Torn  by  a  leopard— Corrupting  the  imagination 
— A  terrible  curse — The  clock  strikes  midnight — A  spectre  of  the  night — Make  a  bonfire  of  bad  books,  407-416 

PILLARS  OF  SMOKE. 

The  Architecture  of  the  Smoke — Beautiful  comparisons — Martyrdoms  and  persecutions— Catholics  and 
Protestants  alike  practise  inhumanities — Intolerance  of  both — Other  persecutions — Horrible  atrocities 
in  the  name  of  religion — Groans  of  the  martyrs — Has  persecution  ceased? — A  complaint  from  the 
theatres — A  terrible  vengeance — A  beautiful  symbol— The  gates  of  the  church — The  smoke  of  peace 
—  Lincoln's  wise  proposition — The  horrors  of  war — Down  with  Moloch— Burning  of  the  world,       .     .  417-429 

HEROES  OF  THE  SEA. 
Behold  the  Ships — Our  war  vessels — Memorable  sea  fights — The  neglected  sailor — The  fight  of  Lepanto 
— Battle  of  Actium — And  of  Salamis — Wonderful  things  accomplished  during  our  late  war— Deeds  of 
naval  heroes — The  ocean  cemetery — From  picturesque  display  to  death— Sinking  of  the  Weehawken 
— Keep  your  flag  flying — Four  years  of  martyrdom — A  review  of  three  great  conflicts — Epigrammatic 
messages — Death  of  Farragut — Conversion  of  Admiral  Foote 43°"439 

WARS  OF  THE  AGES. 
Military  Science  Set  forth  in  the  Bible— Early  weapons  of  warfare— Fighting  from  the  backs  of  elephants 
— Armed  chariots — The  noise  of  advancing  hosts — Foreign  nations  jealous  of  us — A  sacrifice  for  my 
country — Contrast  1862  with  1888 — The  "  Star-Spangled  Banner  "  and  "Way  Down  South  in  Dixie  " 
— War  contrasted  with  peace — The  Statue  of  Liberty — The  rivalry  of  commerce — Off  for  the  war — 
Thrilling  scenes  and  heart-burnings — Thanksgiving  day  in  camp — News  from  the  battle — Harrowing 
sobs  and  agonies — Glorious  contrasts — The  dove  of  peace — Progress  in  North  and  South — Buried 
heroes — The  number  that  have  fallen  in  battle,        44° '452 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

A  MIGHTY  HUNTER.  page 

Hunting  as  a  Sport — Formerly  it  was  to  destroy  dangerous  wild  beasts — Nimrod,  the  mighty  hunter — An 
affecting  story — Archers  of  olden  times — Battles  fought  with  the  long  bow — Arrows  from  wood  of  the 
cross — In  the  armory  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke — The  men  who  have  bravely  faced  danger — The  mon- 
ster of  intemperance — The  Church  of  God — The  Bengal  tiger  of  drunkenness — Great  tun  of  Heidel- 
berg— A  death  bed  repentance — A  singular  vision — Visited  by  the  spirit  of  his  dead  mother — An 
inexpressibly  sad  scene — Five  acts  of  a  tragedy — A  grand  hunt  in  the  India  jungles — Domitian's 
skill  as  an  archer — The  sinner's  death-trap — Roland  the  trumpeter — A  marvellous  tomb, 453-46) 

FORGIVENESS. 

Pillow  of  the  Dying  Day — Glorious  sunset — Life's  exasperations — Misrepresentations  and  persecutions — 
An  anecdote  of  Henderson — A  faith  cure — A  boy  whose  vitals  were  eaten  by  a  fox — Vindictiveness  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  son — Murder  of  the  young  princes — Shakespeare's  genius — Magnanimity  of  Aris- 
tippus — The  duty — Ruins  of  Pompeii — A  child's  trustfulness  in  its  father — A  provider  and  defender — 
Mohammed's  idea  of  power — The  clock  of  earthly  existence — The  sunset  of  earth  is  the  sunrise  of 
heaven,      462-470 

THE  BLACK  GIANT. 

Easter  Mornings  of  the  World — The  royal  court  of  the  Sabbaths— The  black  giant — Invading  every 
domicile  with  the  pestilence  of  death — Christ  the  good  Physician — The  abolition  of  death — At  a  king's 
banquet — Reconstruction  of  the  body — Cremation  may  become  necessary — God  shall  raise  the  dead — 
Resurrection  of  seed  life — Seeds  from  the  mummy  pits  of  Egypt — The  apparent  death  and  resurrec- 
tion of  Rev.  Win.  Tenneut — Evidence  of  a  final  resurrection — The  Olympic  games — Meeting  of  body 
and  soul — A  cruel  heathen — Emptied  graves 471-480 

PALACES  OF  SPLENDOR. 

The  Church  of  Notre  Dame — Magnificent  relics  there  preserved — Jewelled  raiment  of  kings  and  queens  — 
The  odors  of  Christ's  garments — Exquisite  comparisons — Ivory  palaces — Solomon's  splendors — Heal- 
ing all  ills  —Claiming  the  flowers  of  earth  for  transplanting  in  the  eternal  garden — Open  your  gates 
for  a  new  soul  to  come  in 481-487 

•       SECRET  SOCIETIES. 

"  Discover  not  a  Secret  to  Another  " — Why  Solomon  gave  this  injunction — People  who  can't  keep  their 
mouths  closed — Gossip  in  Solomon's  household — Effects  of  a  secret  divulged  and  of  a  secret  kept — 
Associations  for  goodly  purposes  commended— The  necessity  of  secrecy — Resistance  to  monopoly — 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots — Good  accomplished  by  secret  societies — Sacrificing  the  home — Ruined  by 
social  excesses — The  two  roads — A  rope  that  reaches  to  heaven 488-497 

A  STAIN  ON  THE  ESCUTCHEON. 

National  Parties — Need  of  an  Anti-Mormon  policy — The  great  lazaretto  in  the  West — Recruited  from 
foreign  shores — The  demand  of  the  age — Extirpation  bv  the  sword  recommended — Bigamy  on  a 
colossal  scale — Inducing  a  laxity  in  the  marital  relation— Divorce  made  easy — Protect  the  emigrants — 
Intermarriage  of  nationalities — -The  Constitution  and  the  Bible  to  be  studied — A  recognition  of  God — 
Anarchy  condemned — No  dependence  in  political  promises — Loyalty  to  God — The  voice  of  prayer — 
A  handclasp  round  the  world 498-5o8> 

RESPONSIBILITY  OF  RULERS. 

Baseness  of  Henry  YIII. — The  sinners  of  the  world  enthroned — Our  land  blessed  with  good  men — David 
reproved  by  Nathan — Incompetency  of  officials — Ignorance  elevated  to  place — Drunkenness  in  the 
halls  of  legislation — Slain  by  strong  drink — Examples  of  the  evils  that  have  come  upon  our  country 
through  intoxication — A  cry  from  the  land — God's  indignation — Bribery  and  corruption — How  bills 
are  passed — Revolution  ahead — Your  duty  to  your  country — God  save  the  United  States  !      ....  509-517 

GOD'S  CIRCLE. 

The  Universe  Made  on  the  Plan  of  a  Circle — Shapes  in  nature — Greatness  of  the  past — Noah's  ark — 
Centuries  behind  old  artists  —  Relics  from  an  exhumed  English  city — The  world  swinging  in  a  circle 
— Ezekiel's  wheel — The  mutations  of  time — Building  of  the  pyramids — Effects  of  goodly  influence 
never  destroyed — Thy  sins  will  discover  you — Disrespect  to  parents — A  shocking  illustration — Influ- 
ence of  Voltaire  and  Marat — A  glad  theory — Christ  the  centre  of  the  circle 518-52; 

A  PURPOSELESS  LIFE. 

Idolatry  of  the  Ancients — He  feedeth  on  ashes — Lady  Jane  Grey  and  other  unfortunates — The  vanity  of 
riches — The  voluptuaries  of  history — A  wasted  life — Infidelity — The  hunger  of  restlessness — What  is 
wealth  ? — Help  cometh  not  from  this  world — Anecdote  of  a  rich  merchant — The  faithful  watch-dog — 
The  end  of  the  world — The  confiding  murderer, 528-536 

SMALL  THINGS. 
The  Eye  of  the  East — Paul's  persecution  of  the  Christians — His  conversion — Pursued  by  the  mob — Refuge 
on  the  housetop — The  escape — An  incident  in  John  Wesley's  life — How  Pitcairn  Island  was  re- 
claimed— The  manger  in  Bethlehem — Miriam's  rejoicing — In  a  storm  at  sea — Success  at  last — John  in 
the  wilderness— Holding  the  rope — A  nail  nearly  wrecks  a  Cunarder — The  Spanish  inquisition — 
Paul's  prayer — Amen, 537-544 


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i.  Presentation  Plate  in  Colors.  44. 

2.  Frontispiece,    The    Pathway    of    Life.  45. 

(Colored  Plate.)  46. 

3.  Cradled  Amid  Whispering  Flowers,    .    .    .  PAGE  18  47. 

4.  A  Gentle  Wafting  tp  Immortal  Life,    ....  22  48. 

5.  Easter  Morning 23  49. 

6.  "Rose  of  Sharon  and  Lily  of  the  Valley,"  .    .  24  50. 

7.  Morning  of  the  Resurrection," 25  51. 

8.  Tail  Piece 26  52. 

9.  Harvest  Time, 28  53. 

to.  The  Christian  Martyr 29  54. 

II.  Mary  Anointing  the  Feet  of  Jesus, 32  55. 

:2.  The  Entombment, 33  56. 

13.  Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms, 35  57. 

14.  A  Victim  to  Unrequited  Love 37  58. 

15.  Death  of  Miss  Langdon, 40  59. 

16.  Dead  for  Our  Transgressions 41 

17.  The  Charge  for  Glory, ....  43  60. 

18.  The  Angel's  Whisper 45  61. 

19.  Perishableness 47  62. 

20.  Night's  Swift  Dragons 50  63. 

21.  America, 52  64. 

22.  A  Dirge  in  the  Desert, 53  65. 

23.  Landing  of  the  Romans 54  66. 

24.  Kingdom  of  the  Blessed 56  67. 

25.  Michael  Hurling  Lucifer  cit  of  Heaven,      .    .  58  68. 

26.  The  Last  Dream 59  69. 

27.  Humble  Fare  Eaten  in  Sweet  Content,     ...  62 

28.  Ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel 63  70. 

29.  "The  World's    Sorrows    Laid  at  Jesus'  71. 

Feet."    (Colored  Plate.) 64  72. 

30.  Napoleon's  Retreat, 64  73. 

31.  Death  of  Queen  Elizabeth 66  74. 

32.  Works  of  Christopher  Wren, 67  75. 

33.  A  Threshing  Floor, 68  76. 

34.  Vagabond  in  the  Drawing  Room, 71  77. 

35-  Vagabond  in  the  Street, 71  78. 

36.  The  Parting — Apples  of  Ashes 73  79. 

37.  Milton  Dictating  Paradise  Lost, 75  80. 

38.  A  Romantic  Girl, 77  81. 

39.  Idleness, 79  82. 

40.  "Woman,  Behold  Thy  Son," 80  83. 

41.  Abigail  Bringing  Provisions  to  David 83  84. 

42.  Preparing  the  Bride 84  85. 

43.  Burns  and  Highland  Mary 85  86. 

(xiv) 


Avarice  and  Love page  86 

Wedded  and  Broken-Hearted 88 

The  Ducal  Palace 90 

Cleopatra  Before  Caesar, 92 

Jephthah's  Daughter 95 

The  Madness  of  Van  der  Goes, 97 

A  Broken  Vow 99 

Jane  Waring  Receiving  Swift's  Message,     .    .  101 

The  Step-Mother, 103 

Match-Making  in  Early  Days 104 

Sick  and  Neglected, 106 

The  Rescue, 107 

A  Fair  Scythian no 

From  a  Dude  to  a  Drunkard in 

Head-Dress  Fashions  in  Fifteenth  Century,    .  112 
Shakespeare      Supported     by     Comedy    and 

Tragedy, 113 

In  Memoriam  of  Sarah  Comstock 1 14 

The  Feast  of  Ahasuerus, 117 

Esther  Receiving  the  Sceptre 118 

Meeting  of  the  School  Trustees 120 

The  Lesson, 122 

Mrs.  Siddons  as  the  Muse  of  Tragedy,    .    .    .  124 

Victims  of  the  French  Revolution,  »  .    .    .    .  125 

Vashti,  the  Outcast, 126 

The  Guardian  Angel, 12? 

Jesus  the  Healer  op  All  Ills.    (Colored 

Plate.) 12b 

Shushan,  in  the  Time  of  Ahasuerus,    .    .    .    .  I2r. 

In  Naboth's  Vineyard, 13) 

Judith 134 

Calpurnia, 135 

Luther  in  the  Midst  of  his  Family, 137 

The  Politician  in   Retirement, 138 

The  First  Step 140 

Execution  of  Joan  d' Arc, 142 

Catharine  Assuming  the  Crown, 144 

Little  Mischief  and  his  Teacher 145 

Napoleon  Divorcing  Josephine, 147 

A  Broken  Heart  in  a  Gilded  Palace 149 

The  Old  Homestead, 150 

The  Empty  Place, 151 

Wounded  for  his  Country, 153 

Face  and  Form  of  Loveliness, 154 

The  Sea  Beach  Watchers, 156 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


XV 


87.  Grandmother, page  158 

88.  Talking  over  Old  Times, 159 

89.  The  Last  Voyage, 160 

90.  Visiting  the  Sick, 161 

91.  The  Guiding  Angel 163 

92.  How  Far  Yet? 165 

93.  Grandmother  in  Heaven, 166 

94.  A  Song  without  Words, 169 

95.  Slumber  Song 170 

96.  Sung  to  Sleep 171 

97.  The  Old  Man's  Song, 173 

98.  Destruction  of  the  Babes, 175 

99.  Henry  V.  at  Agiucourt,        176 

100.  A  Young  Man  of  the  World 179 

101.  Tough  Customers 181 

102.  A  Cloud  on  his  Brow, 183 

103.  The  Secret  of  a  Bad  Habit 185 

104.  The  Storm  Child 188 

105.  Aurora 189 

106.  Attila,  King  of  the  Huns, 191 

107.  Siege  of  Aquileia, 192 

108.  Charioteers, 194 

109.  Nebuchadnezzar's  Palace, 196 

no.  The  Goddess  of  Justice, 197 

Hi.  The  First  Cradle 199 

112.  Joseph's  Coat  Brought  to  Jacob, 200 

113.  The  Prodigal  Son, 201 

114.  Death-Bed  of  Copernicus, 202 

115.  The  Jealous  Sisters, 205 

116.  The  Jealous  Child, 206 

117.  The  Duel 207 

118.  Hard  Times, 209 

119.  Tail  Piece, 210 

120.  The  Little  Orphan's  Dream, 212 

131.  Napoleon's  Retreat  from  Moscow 214 

122.  The  Reaper  and  the  Flowers, 215 

123.  The  Victor, 216 

124.  The  Sailor's  Return, 218 

125.  The  Crown  of  Thorns, 219 

126.  Daedalus  and  Icarus, 221 

127.  Clytemnestra, 222 

128.  Noble  Womanhood, 224 

129.  The  Hour  of  Retribution, 226 

130.  Motherless, 227 

131.  Grief, 228 

132.  The  Fall  of  Adam, 229 

133.  The  Deluge, 230 

134.  Tail  Piece, ,  231 

135.  Fame,      233 

136.  Bringing  Home  the  Lost  Sheep 234 

137.  Feeding  the  Multitude 235 

138.  The  Empty  Saddle, 237 

139.  Reciting  Incidents  of  his  Valor 238 

140.  The  Last  Journey, 240 

141.  The  Artist  in  the  Palace, 241 

142.  Tail  Piece, 242 

143.  Jolly  Companions, 244 

144.  Daniel   Refusing  the  King's  Wine 245 

145.  In  the  Brave  Days  of  Old, 247 

146.  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  French  Ambassadors,  248 
147-  Knox  before  the  Court  of  Mary  Stuart,    .    .    .  250 


90. 

91. 
92. 
93- 
94- 
95- 
96. 

97- 
yS. 

99- 
200. 
201. 
202. 
203. 
204. 
205. 
206. 
207. 


Scourging  of  Jesus pace  252 

The  Call  of  Matthew, 253 

Tail  Piece 255 

Husbandly  Sympathy, 257 

Before  Monterey,         258 

The  Voice  of  Prayer, 260 

"  Close  the  Hours  with  Prayer, " 261 

The  Three  Angels,  .    .    . 263 

Blessed  are  the  Pure  in  Heart 265 

Niobe, 266 

A  Feast  of  Cherries 269 

Health  and  Whispering  Love, 272 

Cleansing  the  Leper, 274 

Reverence, 275 

Peace,  Be  Still 277 

The  Angel  of  the  Sepulchre 278 

Tail  Piece, 279 

Crucified  for  the  Sins  of  the  World. 

{Colored  Plate.) 280 

Paul  Being  Taken  to  Rome, 281 

Paul  Shipwrecked, 282 

Saved  on  Pieces  of  the  Ship,       283 

The  Sea  Shall  Give  up  the  Dead, 284 

A  Young  Hero 285 

A  Cry  from  the  Sea 288 

Ramsgate  Pier  Head, 289 

The  Sistine  Madonna, 292 

The  Children's  Pets, 293 

An  Interesting  Story, 295 

Jesus,  the  Carpenter's  Son 297 

The  Young  Farmer, 299 

Mother, 300 

Samson  Serving  the  Philistines 303 

Music  in  the  Household 305 

Highlanders  at  Waterloo 306 

The  Rural  Dancing  Master, 30S 

Caught  Tripping 309 

The  Queen's  Shilling 311 

Moravians  at  their  Devotions, 312 

Virginius  Killing  his  Daughter, 314 

Tail  Piece, 315 

The  First  Step '. 317 

Maria  Theresa  and  the  Infant  King,     ....  318 

Goddess  of  the  Barnyard, 319 

The  Chimney  Sweep, 320 

The  Reckless  Pupil, 322 

The  Mischief-Maker 324 

The  Rival  Grandfathers 326 

"Our  Father  which  Art  in  Heaven,"  ....  328 

"  Give  us  this  Day  our  Daily  Bread,"    ....  329 

Early  at  the  Cross, 330 

The  Ministering  Angels, 333 

Christ  Teaching  by  the  Seaside 335 

Tower  of  London, 337 

The  Nestlings 339 

The  Trumpeter, 340 

Morning  of  the  World, 342 

A  Poem  of  Love,      343 

The  Genius  of  Fable, 344 

The  Boat  Song 346 

Workshop  of  a  Philosopher, 348 


XVI 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


208.  Song  of  the  Swan, page  350 

209.  At  the  Cross, 351 

210.  The  Forbidden  Book 354 

2H.  The  Novel  Reader, 355 

212.  After  the  Feast 357 

213.  The  Gamesters, 358 

214.  Boadicea 360 

215.  Funeral  Pyre, 362 

216.  Tail  Piece, 363 

217.  The  Philanthropy  of  Elizabeth  Fry,    ....  365 

218.  Martyrdom  of  St.  Sebastian, 366 

219.  The  Court  Fool 367 

220.  A  Gentleman  of  the  Highway, 369 

221.  Execution  of  Lord  Hastings, .  370 

222.  Tail  Piece 371 

223.  The  Queen  of  Sympathy 373 

224.  Warrior  and  Wounded  Youth 374 

225.  Motherless, 376 

226.  The  Widower 378 

227.  Confidence, 38J 

228.  Tail  Piece 382 

229.  Silver  and  Gold, 384 

230.  The  Holy  Sign, 385 

231.  The  Flower  Gatherer, 386 

232.  Where  the  Woods  Lift  their  Heads  in  Praise,  3S8 

233.  The  Harvest  of  the  Sea 390 

234.  Persecution  oe  Christians  at  Rome  by 

Nero.     {Colored  Plate.) ■  .    .  392 

235.  The  Huguenot, 393 

236.  The  Forgiver  of  Sin, 395 

237.  The  Sylvan  Fields, 396 

238.  A  Witch, 399 

239.  "  Is  it  Nothing  to  You  ?" 401 

240.  Safe  while  Jesus  Watches, 403 

241.  Stoning  of  Stephen, 405 

242.  Tail  Piece, 406 

243.  "  What  Shall  My  Daughter  Read  ?" 408 

244.  The  Wayward  Daughter, 410 

245.  Ulysses  Taunting  Polyphemus, 412 

246.  Ill  Gotten  Gains, 415 

247.  Tail  Piece 416 

248.  Vatican  Library, 418 

249.  Alva's  Last  Ride  through  Amsterdam,     .    .    .  420 

250.  Martyrdom  of  St.  Eulalia 422 

251.  The  Christian  Martyr, 424 

252.  At  the  Golden  Gate 425 

253.  Bad  News  from  the  Sea 427 

254.  Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter, 428 

255.  Ship  Ahoy  ! 431 

256.  Battle  of  Lepanto 432 

257.  Battle  of  Trafalgar 434 

258.  Cruisers  after  the  Battle, 436 

259.  Crossing  the  Bar, 438 

260.  Siege  of  Tyre 441 


261.  Chivalry PAGE  442 

262.  War, :    .    .  444 

263.  The  Soldier's  Wife, 446 

264.  Peace 448 

265.  War  for  the  Holy  Land 450 

266.  Tail  Piece 452 

267.  On  the  Trail, 454 

268.  A  Modern  Club  Room, 456 

269.  The  Two  Roads 458 

270.  The  Young  Hunter, 460 

271.  Last  Day  of  Sir  Thomas  More 463 

272.  The  Young  Princes  in  the  Tower, 465 

273.  After  the  Battle  of  Bosworth, 467 

274.  Cromwell  at  the  Deathbed  of  his  Daughter,    .  469 

275.  The  Riot  of  Battle, 472 

276.  Capture  of  the  Bastile, 474 

277.  Under  the  Greenwood  Tree 476 

278.  The  Angel  of  the  Resurrection, 478 

279.  Catharine  before  the    Ecclesiastical  Court,  .    .  482 

280.  "He  was  Altogether  Lovely," 484 

281.  Grotto  in    the  Luxembourg  Garden 485 

282.  "It  is  the  Lord!" 486 

283.  Tail  Piece 4S7 

284.  The  Gossips,       489 

285.  Taking  up  a  Collection 491 

286.  An  Old-fashioned  Home, 494 

287.  The  Two  Grandmothers 495 

288.  Tail  Piece, 49S 

2S9.  A  Mormon  Wife  Cast  out, 500 

290.  The  Emigrants 502 

291.  The  Swine  Herd 504 

292.  Trust  in  God 505 

293.  The  Dream  of  Joy, 507 

294.  Death  of  Ananias 510 

295.  Christianity  and  the  Dragon, 511 

296.  The  Cross  oe  Prayer.     (Colored Plate.')    .  512 

297.  Onward,  in  the  Name  of  Christ 513 

298.  Purified  Through  Fire, • 515 

299.  Decoration  Day 516 

300.  The  Circle  of  Peace, 519 

301.  The  Family  Circle, 520 

302.  The  Curve, 522 

303.  The  Circle  Complete, 524 

304.  Last  Toilet  of  Charlotte  Corday, 525 

305.  Roman  Amphitheatre, 526 

306.  Death  Summons  to  Lady  Jane  Grey 529 

307.  The  Tree  is  Known  by  its  Fruits, 531 

308.  The  Faithful  Servant, 533 

309.  Home  at  Last 535 

310.  Tail  Piece, 536 

311.  The  Song  of  Miriam, 539 

312.  John  in  the  Wilderness, 540 

313.  The  Young  Hopeful,  .    .- 542 

314.  Good-Night 544 


The  Pathway  of  Life. 


©aster  JHormng. 

"the  angels  of  the  grass." 

IBLICAL,  writers  uniformly  regard  the  lily  as  the  queen 
of  flowers.  The  rose  may  have  disputed  her 
throne  in  modern  times,  and  won  it ;  but  the  rose 
originally  had  only  five  petals.  It  was  under  the 
long  continued  and  intense  gaze  of  the  world  that 
the  rose  blushed  into  its  present  beauty.  In  the 
Bible  train,  cassia  and  .hyssop  and  frankincense 
and  myrrh  and  spikenard  and  camphire  and  the 
rose  follow  the  lily.  Fourteen  times  in  the  Bible 
is  the  lily  mentioned — only  twice  the  rose.  The 
rose  may  now  have  wider  empire,  but  the  lily 
reigned  in  the  time  of  Esther,  in  the  time  of  Solomon,  in 
the  time  of  Christ. 

Csesar  had  his  throne  on  the  hills.  The  lily  had  her 
throne  in  the  valley.  In  the  greatest  sermon  that  was  ever 
preached  there  was  only  one  flower,  and  that  a  lily.  The 
Bedford  dreamer,  John  Bunyan,  entered  the  House  of  the 
Interpreter  and  was  shown  a  cluster  of  flowers  and  was  told 
to  "  consider  the  lilies." 

We  may  study  or  reject  other  sciences  at  our  option.     It 
is  so  with  astronomy,  it  is  so  with   chemistry,    it    is    so    with 
jurisprudence,  it  is  so  with  physiology,  it  is  so  with  geology; 
but  the  science  of  botany   Christ  commands   us  to  study  when 
He  says :    "  Consider    the    lilies."     Measure    them    from    root    to   tip   of  petal. 
Inhale    their    breath.     Notice    the  gracefulness  of  their  poise.     Hear   the   whis- 
per of  the  white  lips  of  the  Eastern  and  of  the  red  lips  of  the  American  lily. 


MEMBERS   OF  THE   LILY   FAMILY. 


Belonging  to  this  royal  family  of  lilies  is  the  lily  of  the  Nile,  the  Japan 
lily,  the  Lady  Washington  of  the  Sierras,  the  Golden  Band  lily,  the  Giant  lily 
of  Nepaul,  the  Turk's  Cap  lily,  the  African  lily  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope. 


to). 


(i8) 


A    MOTHERS   INFLUENCE. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  19 

All  these  lilies  have  the  royal  blood  in  their  veins.  But  I  take  the  lily 
as  typical  of  all  flowers,  and  Easter  day,  garlanded  with  all  this  opulence 
of  floral  beauty,  seems  to  address  us,  saying :  "  Consider  the  lilies,  con- 
sider the  azalias,  consider  the  fuchsias,  consider  the  geraniums,  consider  the 
ivies,  consider  the  hyacinths,  consider  the  heliotropes,  consider  the  oleanders." 
With  deferential  and  grateful  and  intelligent  and  worshipful  souls,  consider 
them.  Not  with  insipid  sentimentalism,  or  with  sophomoric  vaporing,  but  for 
grand  and  practical  and  everyday,  and,  if  need  be,  homely  uses,  consider  them. 

The  flowers  are  the  angels  of  the  grass  :  they  all  have  voices.  When 
the  clouds  speak  they  thunder ;  when  the  whirlwinds  speak  they  scream  ;  when 
the  cataracts  speak  they  roar,  but  when  the  flowers  speak  they  always  whisper. 
I  will  attempt  to  interpret  their  message.  What  have  ye  to  say,  O  ye  angels 
of  the  grass,  to  these  my  readers  ?  I  mean  to  discuss  here  what  flowers  are 
good  for.     That  is  my  subject:  What  are  flowers  good  for? 

In  the  first  place,  they  are  good  for  lessons  of  God's  providential  care. 
That  was  Christ's  first  thought.  All  these  flowers  seem  to  address  us,  saying : 
"  God  will  give  you  apparel  and  food.  We  have  no  wheel  with  which  to  spin, 
no  loom  with  which  to  weave,  no  sickle  with  which  to  harvest,  no  well-sweep 
with  which  to  draw  water ;  but  God  slakes  our  thirst  with  dew,  and  God  feeds 
us  with  the  bread  of  the  sunshine,  and  God  has  apparelled  us  with  more  than 
the  Solomonic  regality.  We  are  prophetesses  of  adequate  wardrobe.  If  God  so 
clothe  us,  the  grass  of  the  field,  will  He  not  much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of 
little  faith?" 

Men  and  Avomen  of  worldly  anxieties,  take  this  message  home  with  you. 
How  long  has  God  taken  care  of  you?  Quarter  of  the  journey  of  life?  half 
the  journey  of  life  ?  three-quarters  the  journey  of  life  ?  Can  you  not  trust  Him 
the  rest  of  the  way?  God  does  not  promise  you  anything  like  that  which  the- 
Roman  Emperor  had  on  his  table,  at  vast  expense — 500  nightingales'  tongues 
— but  He  has  promised  to  take  care  of  you.  He  has  promised  you  the 
necessities,  not  the  luxuries — bread,  not  cake.  If  God  so  luxuriantly  clothes 
the  grass  of  the  field,  will  He  not  provide  for  you,  His  living  and  immortal 
children  ?     He  will. 

No  wonder  Martin  Luther  always  had  a  flower  on  his  writing  desk  for 
inspiration.  Through  the  cracks  of  the  prison  floor  a  flower  grew  up  to  cheer 
Picciola.  Mungo  Park,  the  great  traveller  and  explorer,  had  his  life  saved  by 
a  flower.  He  sank  down  in  the  desert  to  die,  but  seeing  a  flower  near  by,  it 
suggested  God's  merciful  care,  and  he  got  up  with  new  courage  and  travelled 
on  to  safety.  I  said  the  flowers  are  the  angels  of  the  grass;  I  add  now  they 
are  the  evangels  of  the  sky. 

FLOWERS   FOR   THE   BRIDAL   DAY. 

If  you  insist  on  asking  me  the  question:  What  are  flowers  good  for?  I 
respond,  They  are  good  for  the  bridal  day.     The  bride  must  have  them  on  her 


20  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

brow  and  she  must  have  them  in  her  hand.  The  marriage  altar  must  be 
covered  with  them.  A  wedding  without  flowers  would  be  as  inappropriate  as 
a  wedding  without  music.  At  such  a  time  they  are  for  congratulation  and 
prophecies  of  good.  So  much  of  the  pathway  of  life  is  covered  up  with  thorns, 
we  ought  to  cover  the  beginning  with  orange  blossoms. 

Flowers  are  appropriate  on  such  occasions, ,  for  in  99  out  of  100  cases  it 
is  the  very  best  thing  that  could  have  happened.  The  world  may  criticise  and 
pronounce  it  an  inaptitude,  and  may  lift  its  eyebrows  in  surprise  and  think  it 
might  suggest  something  better,  but  the  God  who  sees  the  twenty,  forty,  fifty 
years  of  wedded  life  before  they  have  begun,  arranges  all  for  the  best,  so  that 
flowers  in  almost  all  cases  are  appropriate  for  the  marriage  day.  The  diver- 
gences of  disposition  will  become  correspondences,  recklessness  will  become 
prudence,  frivolity  will  be  turned  into  practicality. 

There  has  been  many  an  aged  widowed  soul  who  had  a  carefully  locked 
bureau,  and  in  the  bureau  a  box,  and  in  the  box  a  folded  paper,  and  in  the 
folded  paper  a  half-blown  rose,  slightly  fragrant,  discolored,  carefully  pressed. 
She  put  it  there  forty  or  fifty  years  ago.  On  the  anniversary  day  of  her 
wedding  she  will  go  to  the  bureau,  she  will  lift  the  box,  she  will  unfold  the 
paper,  and  to  her  eyes  will  be  exposed  the  half-blown  bud,  and  the  memories 
of  the  past  will  rush  upon  her,  and  a  tear  will  drop  upon  the  flowers  ;  and 
suddenly  it  is  transfigured,  and  there  is  a  stir  in  the  dust  of  the  anther,  and 
it  rounds  out,  and  it  is  full  of  life,  and  it  begins  to  tremble  in  the  procession 
up  the  church  aisle,  and  the  dead  music  of  a  half  century  ago  comes  throb- 
bing through  the  air ;  and  vanished  faces  reappear,  and  right  hands  are  joined, 
and  a  manly  voice  promises :  "  I  will  for  better  or  for  worse,"  and  the  wed- 
ding march  thunders  a  salvo  of  joy  at  the  departing  crowd ;  but  a  sigh  on 
that  anniversary  day  scatters  the  scene.  Under  the  deep-fetched  breath,  the 
altar,  the  flowers,  the  congratulating  groups  are  scattered,  and  there  is  nothing 
left  but  a  trembling  hand  holding  a  faded  rosebud,  which  is  put  into  the 
paper,  and  then  into  the  box,  and  the  box  carefully  placed  in  the  bureau,  and 
with  a  sharp,  sudden  click  of  the  lock  the  scene  is  over. 

Ah,  my  friends,  let  not  the  prophecies  of  the  flowers  on  your  wedding  day 
be  false  prophecies.  Be  blind  to  each  other's  faults.  Make  the  most  of  each 
other's  excellences.  Above  all,  do  not  both  get  mad  at  once !  Remember  the 
vows,  the  ring  on  the  third  finger  of  the  left  hand  and  the  benediction  of  the 
calla  lilies. 

FLOWERS   FOR   THE   DEAD. 

If  you  insist  on  asking  me  the  question :  What  are  flowers  good  for  ?  I 
answer,  They  are  good  to  honor  and  comfort  the  obsequies.  The  worst  gash 
ever  made  into  the  side  of  our  poor  earth  is  the  gash  of  the  grave.  It  is  so 
deep,  it  is  so  cruel,  it  is  so  incurable  that  it  needs  something  to  cover  it  up. 
Flowers  for  the  casket,  flowers  for  the  hearse,  flowers  for  the  cemetery. 

What  a  contrast  between  a  grave  in  a  country  church-yard,  with  the  fence 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  21 

broken  down  and  the  tombstone  aslant,  and  the  neighboring  cattle  browsing 
amid  the  mullein  stalks  and  the  Canada  thistle,  and  a  June  morning  in  Green- 
wood, the  wave  of  roseate  bloom  rolling  to  the  top  of  the  mounds,  and  then 
breaking  into  foaming  crests  of  white  flowers  all  around  the  pillars  of  dust. 
It  is  the  difference  between  sleeping  under  rags  and  sleeping  under  an  embroi- 
dered blanket.  We  want  Old  Mortality  with  his  chisel  to  go  through  the 
grave-yards  of  Christendom,  and  while  he  carries  a  chisel  in  one  hand  we 
want  Old  Mortality  to  have  some  flower-seed  in  the  palm  of  the  other  hand. 

"  Oh,"  you  say,  "  The  dead  don't  know ;  it  makes  no  difference  to  them." 
I  think  you  are  mistaken.  There  are  not  so  many  steamers  and  rail  trains 
coming  to  any  living  city  as  there  are  convoys  coming  from  heaven  to  earth ; 
and  if  there  be  instantaneous  and  constant  communication  between  this  world 
and  the  better  world,  do  you  not  suppose  your  departed  friends  know  what  you 
do  with  their  bodies  ?  Why  has  God  planted  "  golden  rod "  and  wild  flowers 
in  the  forest  and  on  the  prairie  where  no  human  eye  ever  sees  them  ?  He 
planted  them  there  for  invisible  intelligences  to  look  at  and  admire,  and  when 
invisible  intelligences  come  to  look  at  the  wild  flowers  of  the  woods  and  the 
table-lands,  will  they  not  make  excursions  and  see  the  flowers  which  you  have 
planted  in  affectionate  remembrance  of  them  ? 

When  I  am  dead  I  would  like  to  have  a  handful  of  violets — any  one  could 
pluck  them  out  of  the  grass,  or  some  one  could  lift  from  the  edge  of  the  pond 
a  water  lily — nothing  rarely  expensive  or  insane  display,  as  sometimes  at 
funeral  rites  where  the  display  takes  the  bread  from  the  children's  mouths  and 
the  clothes  from  their  backs,  but  something  from  the  great  democracy  of 
flowers.  Rather  than  imperial  catafalque  of  Russian  Czar,  I  ask  some  one 
whom  I  may  have  helped  by  gospel  sermon  or  Christian  deed  to  bring  a  sprig 
of  arbutus  or  a  handful  of  China-asters. 

It  was  left  for  modern  times  to  spell  respect  for  the  departed  and  comfort 
for  the  living  in  letters  of  floral  gospel.  Pillows  of  flowers  meaning  rest  for 
the  pilgrim  who  has  got  to  the  end  of  his  journey.  Anchor  of  flowers,  sug- 
gesting the  Christian  hope  which  we  have  as  an  anchor  to  the  soul,  sure  and 
steadfast.     Cross  of  flowers,  suggesting  the  tree  on  which  our  sins  were  slain. 

If  I  had  my  way  I  would  cover  up  all  the  dreamless  sleepers,  whether  in 
golden-handled  casket  or  pine  box,  whether  in  a  king's  mausoleum  or  potter's 
field,  with  radiant  and  aromatic  arborescence.  The  Bible  says,  in  the  midst 
of  the  garden  there  was  a  sepulchre.  I  wish  that  every  sepulchre  might  be 
in  the  midst  of  a  garden. 

RELIGIOUS   SYMBOLISM. 

If  you  insist  on  asking  me  the  question :  What  are  flowers  good  for  ?  I 
answer  for  religious  symbolism.  Have  you  ever  studied  Scriptural  flora?  The 
Bible  is  an  arboretum,  it  is  a  divine  conservatory,  it  is  an  herbarium  of  exqui- 
site beauty.  If  you  want  to  illustrate  the  brevity  of  the  brightest  human  life, 
you  will  quote  from  Job:  "A  man  cometh  forth  as  a  flower  and  is  cut  down;" 


I 


I 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


23 


or,  you  will  quote  from  the  Psalmist:  "As  the  flower  of  the  field,  so  perisheth, 
the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone;"  or,  you  will  quote  from  Isaiah: 
"All  flesh  is  grass,  and  the  goodliness  thereof  is  as  the  flower  of  the  field;" 
or,  you  will  quote  from  James  the  apostle:  "As  the  flower  of  the  grass,  so  he 
passeth  away."     What  graphic  Bible  symbolism! 

All  the  cut  flowers  of  Easter  day  will  soon  be  dead,  whatever  care  you 
take  of  them.  Though  morning  and  night  you  baptize  them  in  the  name  of 
the  shower,  the  bap- 
tism will  not  be  to 
them  a  saving  ordi- 
nance. They  have 
been  fatally  wounded 
with  the  knife  that 
cut  them.  They  are 
bleeding  their  life 
away ;  they  are  dying 
now.  The  fragrance 
in  the  air  is  their 
departing  and  as- 
cending spirits. 

Oh,  yes !  flowers 
are  almost  human. 
Botanists  tell  us  that 
flowers  breathe,  they 
take  nourishment, 
they  eat,  they  drink. 
They  are  sensitive. 
They  have  their  likes 
and  dislikes.  They 
sleep,  they  w  ke. 
They  live  in  £  al- 
lies. They  havv  Lh-'  ancestors  and  their  descendants,  their  birth,  their  burial, 
their  cradle,  their  grave.  The  zephyr  rocks  the  one,  and  the  storm  digs  the 
trench  for  the  other.  The  cowslip  must  leave  its  gold,  the  lily  must  leave  its 
silver,  the  rose  must  leave  its  diamond  necklace  of  morning  dew.  Dust  to  dust. 
So  we  come  up,  we    prosper,  we    spread    abroad,  we    die,  as    the  flower — as  the 

flower! 

Change  and  decaj'  on  all  around  I  see ; 
O  Thou  who  ehangest  not,  abide  with  me ! 

Flowers  also  afford  mighty  symbolism  of  Christ,  who  compared  Himself 
to  the  ancient  queen,  the  lily,  and  the  modern  queen,  the  rose,  when  He  said  : 
"  I  am  the  rose  of  Sharon,  and  the  lily  of  the  valleys."  Redolent  like  the 
one,    humble    like    the    other.     Like    both,    appropriate    for    the  sad    who  want 


EASTER  MORNING. 


24 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


sympathizers,  and  for  the  rejoicing  who  want  banqueters.  Hovering  over  the 
marriage  ceremony  like  a  wedding  bell,  or  folded  like  a  chaplet  on  the  pulse- 
less heart  of  the  dead. 

O,  Christ !  let  the  perfume  of  Thy  name  be  wafted  all  around  the  earth 
— lily  and  rose,  lily  and  rose — until  the  wilderness  crimson  into  a  garden,  and 
the  round  earth  turn  into  one  great  bud  of  immortal  beauty  laid  against  the 
warm  heart  of  God.  Snatch  down  from  the  world's  banner  eagle  and  lion,  and 
put  on  lily  and  rose,  lily  and  rose. 

EMBLEMS   OF   THE   RESURRECTION. 

But,  my  readers,  flowers  have  no  grander  use  than  when  on  Easter 
morning  we  celebrate  the  reanimation  of  Christ  from  the  catacombs.     All   the 

flowers  of  the  day  spell 
resurrection.  There  is 
not  a  nook  or  corner  in 
all  the  world  but  is 
touched  with  the  in- 
cense. The  women  car- 
fe*2  ried  spices  to  the  tomb 
of  Christ,  and  they  drop- 
ped spices  all  around 
about  the  tomb,  and  from 
those  spices  have  grown 
all  the  flowers  of  Easter 
morn,  The  two  white- 
robed  angels  that  hurled 
the  stone  away  from  the 
door  of  the  tomb,  hurled 
it  with  such  violence  down 
the  hill  that  it  crashed 
in  the  door  of  the  world's  sepulchre,  and  millions  of  the  stark  and  dead 
shall  come  forth. 

However  labyrinthian  the  mausoleum,  however  costly  the  sarcophagus, 
however  architecturally  grand  the  necropolis,  however  beautifully  parterred  the 
family  grounds,  we  want  them  all  broken  up  by  the  Lord  of  the  resurrection. 
The  forms  that  we  laid  away  with  our  broken  hearts  must  rise  again.  Father 
and  mother — they  must  come  out.  Husband  and  wife — they  must  come  out. 
Brothers  and  sisters — they  must  come  out.  Our  darling  children — they  must 
come  out.  The  eyes  that  with  trembling  fingers  we  closed  must  open  in  the 
lustre  of  resurrection  morn.  The  arms  that  we  folded  in  death  must  join  ours 
in  embrace  of  reunion.  The  beloved  voice  that  was  hushed  must  be  returned. 
The  beloved  form  must  come  up  without  its  infirmities,  without  its  fatigues — 
it  must  come  up. 


"THE   ROSE   OF  SHARON   AND    THE    LILY   OF  THE   VALLEYS." 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


25 


Oh,  how  long  it  seems  for  some  of  you.  Waiting — waiting  for  the  resur- 
rection. How  long!  how  long!  I  make  for  your  broken  hearts  a  cool,  soft 
bandage  of  Easter  lilies.  Last  Easter  there  was  sent  through  the  mails  a 
beautiful  Easter  card,  on  the  top  of  it  a  representation  of  that  exquisite 
flower  called  the  "  trumpet  creeper,"  and  under  it  the  inscription :  "  The  trumpet 
shall  sound,  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised."  I  comfort  you  with  the  thought 
of  resurrection. 

When  Lord  Nel- 
son was  buried  in 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral 
in  London,  the  heart 
of  all  England  was 
stirred.  The  proces- 
sion passed  on  amid 
the  sobbing  of  a  na- 
tion. There  were 
thirty  trumpeters 
stationed  at  the  door 
of  the  Cathedral,  with 
instruments  of  music 
in  hand  waiting  for 
the  signal,  and  when 
the  illustrious  dead 
arrived  at  the  gates 
of  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral, these  thirty 
trumpeters  gave  one 
united  blast,  and  then 
all  was  silent.  Yet 
the  trumpets  did  not 
wake  the  dead.  He 
slept  right  on.  But  I 
have  to  tell  you,  what 
thirty  trumpeters 
could  not  do   for  one 


morning  OF  THE  resurrection. — From  a  Painting  by  Rubens. 


man,  one  trumpeter  will  do  for  all  nations.  The  ages  have  rolled  on,  and 
the  clock  of  the  world's  destiny  strikes  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve,  and  time 
shall  be  no  longer. 

THE    DEAD   AROUSED. 

Behold  the  archangel  hovering.  He  takes  the  trumpet,  points  it  this 
way,  puts  its  lips  to  his  lips,  and  then  blows  one  long,  loud,  terrific,  thunder- 
ous reverberating  and  resurrectionary  blast.  Look !  Look !  They  rise !  The 
•dead!     The  dead!     Some  coming  forth  from   the   family  vault;   some  from  the 


26 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


city  cemetery ;  some  from  trie  country  graveyard.  Here  a  spirit  is  joined  to 
its  body,  and  there  another  spirit  is  joined  to  another  body,  and  millions  of 
departed  spirits  are  assorting  the  bodies,  and  then  reclothing  themselves  in 
forms  now  radiant  for  ascension. 

The  earth  begins  to  burn — the  bonfire  of  a  great  victory.  All  ready  nov, 
for  the  procession  of  reconstructed  humanity !  Upward  and  away !  Christ 
leads  and  all  the  Christian  dead  follow — battalion  after  battalion,  nation  after 
nation.  Up,  up !  On,  on !  Forward,  ye  ranks  of  God  Almighty !  Lift  up 
your  heads,  ye  everlasting  gates,  and  let  the  conquerors  come  in.  Resurrection  ! 
Resurrection ! 

And  so  I  twist  all  the  festal  flowers  of  the  churches  of  America  with  all 
the  festal  flowers  of  chapels  and  cathedrals  of.  all  Christendom  into  one  great 
chain,  and  with  that  chain  I  bind  the  Easter  mornings  of  our  lives  with  the 
closing  Easter  of  the  world's  history — resurrection !  May  the  God  of  peace  that 
brought  again  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep, 
through  the  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant,  make  you  perfect  in  every  good 
work  to  do  His  will. 


Blessings  in  &fcbcrsitg. 

THE   STORY   OF   RUTH,    AND    ITS   APPLICATION. 

'HE    time    that    Ruth    and    Naomi    arrived    at    Bethlehem 

was  harvest  time.     It  was  the  custom  when  a  sheaf  fell 

from  a  load  in  the  harvest  field  for  the  reapers  to  refuse 

to  gather    it    up ;    that  was  to  he    left  for  the   poor  who 

might    happen    to    come    along  that  way.     If  there  were 

handfuls  of  grain  scattered  across  the  field  after  the  main 

harvest  had  been  reaped,  instead  of  raking  it,  as  farmers 

do    now,  it  was,  by  the   custom  of   the    land,  left    in    its 

place,  so  that  the  poor,  coming  along  that  way,  might  glean  it 

and  get  their  bread.     But,  you  say : 

"  What  is  the  use  of  all  these  harvest  fields  to  Ruth  and 
Naomi  ?  Naomi  is  too  old  and  feeble  to  go  out  and  toil  in  the 
sun ;  and  can  you  expect  that  Ruth,  the  young  and  the  beau- 
tiful, should  tan  her  cheeks  and  blister  her  hands  in  the  har- 
vest field?" 

Boaz  owns  a  large  farm,  and  he  goes  out  to  see  the  reapers 
gather  in  the  grain.  Coming  there,  right  behind  the  swarthy 
sun-browned  reapers,  he  beholds  a  beautiful  woman  gleaning — 
a  woman  more  fit  to  bend  to  a  harp  or  'sit  upon  a  throne  than 
to  stoop  among  the  sheaves.  Ah,  that  was  an  eventful  da}' ! 
It  was  love  at  first  sight.  Boaz  forms  an  attachment  for 
the  womanly  gleaner — an  attachment  full  of  undying  interest  to  the  Church  of 
God  in  all  ages;  while  Ruth,  with  an  ephah,  or  nearly  a  bushel  of  barley, 
goes  home  to  Naomi  to  tell  her  the  successes  and  adventures  of  the  day. 
That  Ruth,  who  left  her  native  land  of  Moab  in  darkness,  and  labored  in  the 
heat  of  harvest  time,  through  an  undying  affection  for  her  mother-in-law,  in  the 
field  of  Boaz,  is  affianced  to  one  of  the  best  families  in  Judah,  and  becomes  in 
after-time  the  ancestress  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  glory.  Out  of  so  dark  a 
night  did  there  ever  dawn  so  bright  a  morning? 

I  learn,  in  the  first  place,  from  this  subject,  how  trouble  develops  char- 
acter. It  was  bereavement,  poverty  and  exile  that  developed,  illustrated  and 
announced  to  all  ages  the  sublimity  of  Ruth's  character.  That  is  a  very 
unfortunate  man  who  has  no  trouble.  It  was  sorrow  that  made  John  Bunyan 
the  better   dreamer,  and    Dr.  Young  the   better  poet,  and  O'Connell  the  better 

(27) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


29 


orator,  and    Bishop  Hall  the    better  preacher,  and  Havelock  the  better  soldier, 
and  Kitto  the  better  encyclopaedist,  and  Ruth  the  better  daughter-in-law. 

THE   SWEET   EFFECTS   OF   SORROW. 

I    once  asked  an  aged  man  in  regard  to  his  pastor,  who  was  a  very  brill 
iant    man:    "Why  is    it  that    your  pastor,  so  very  brilliant,  seems  to    have  so 
little  heart  and   tenderness 
in  his  sermons?" 

"Well,"  he  repli-d 
"  the  reason  is  our  pastor 
has  never  had  any  trouble. 
When  misfortune  comes 
upon  him,  his  style  will 
be  different." 

After  a  while  the  Lord 
took  a  child  out  of  that 
pastor's  house;  and  though 
the  preacher  was  just  as 
brilliant  as  he  was  before, 
oh,  the  warmth,  the  ten- 
derness of  his  discourses. 
The  fact  is  that  trouble 
is  a  great  educator.  You 
see  sometimes  a  musician 
sit  down  at  an  instrument, 
and  his  execution  is  cold 
and  formal  and  unfeeling. 
The  reason  is  that  all  his 
life  he  has  been  prospered. 
But  let  misfortune  or  be- 
reavement come  to  that 
man,  and  he  sits  down  at 
an  instrument,  and  you 
discover  the  pathos  in  the 
first   sweep  of  the  keys. 

Misfortune    and    trials 
are     great    educators.       A 
young  doctor  comes  into  a    - 
sick    room    where    there    is    a    dying    child.     Perhaps    he    is  very  rough  in  his 
prescription,  and  very  rough    in  his    manner,  and    rough    in  the  feeling  of  the- 
pulse,  and  rough  in  his   answer   to   the    mother's  anxious  question;    but   years 
roll  on  and  there  has  been  one    dead    in    his    own    house;    and    now    he  comes 
into    the    sick    room,  and    with    tearf.u    eye    he   looks  at   the    dying    child,  and- 


THE   CHRISTIAN   MARTYR. 

In  the  early  age  of  the  Church,  and  particularly  during  the  reign  of  Nero,  the  Christians  of 
Rome  were  thrown  into  an  Amphitheatre  with  hungry  tigeis  and  lions,  to  be  devoured,  while 
others  were  subjected  to  even  a  more  horrible  fate. 


30  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

M. 

says:  "Oh,  how  this  reminds  me  of  my  Charlie!"  Trouble,  the  great  educa- 
tor. Sorrow,  I  see  its  touch  in  the  grandest  painting ;  I  hear  its  tremor  in 
the  sweetest  song ;    I  feel  its  power  in  the  mightiest  argument. 

Grecian  mythology  said  that  the  fountain  of  Iiippocrene  was  struck  out 
by  the  foot  of  the  winged  horse  Pegasus.  I  have  often  noticed  in  life  that 
the  brightest  and  most  beautiful  fountains  of  Christian  comfort  and  spiritual 
life  have  been  struck  out  by  the  iron-shod  hoof  of  disaster  and  calamity.  I 
see  Daniel's  courage  best  by  the  flash  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  furnace.  I  see 
Paul's  prowess  best  when  I  find  him  on  the  foundering  ship  under  the  glare 
of  the  lightning  in  the  breakers  of  Melita.  God  crowns  His  children  amid 
the  howling  of  wild  beasts  and  the  chopping  of  blood-splashed  guillotine  and 
the  crackling  fires  of  martyrdom.  It  took  the  persecutions  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
to  develop  Polycarp  and  Justin  Martyr.  It  took  the  world's  anathema  to  de- 
velop Martin  Luther.  It  took  all  the  hostilities  against  the  Scotch  Coven- 
anters and  the  fury  of  Lord  Claverhouse  to  develop  James  Renwick,  and 
Andrew  Melville,  and"  Hugh  McKail,  the  glorious  martyrs  of  Scotch  history. 
It  took  the  stormy  sea,  and  the  December  blast,  and  the  desolate  New  Eng- 
land coast,  and  the  war-whoop  of  savages,  to  show  forth  the  prowess  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers. 

When  amid  the  storms  they  sang, 
And  the  stars  heard,  and   the  sea  ; 

And  the  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  wood 
Rang  to  the  anthems  of  the  free. 

It  took  all  our  past  national  distresses  to  lift  up  our  nation  on  that  high 
career  where  it  will  march  along  after  the  foreign  aristocracies  that  have 
mocked,  and  the  tyrannies  that  have  jeered,  shall  be  swept  down  under  the 
omnipotent  wrath  of  God,  who  hates  despotism,  and  who,  by  the  strength  of 
His  own  right  arm,  will  make  all  men  free.  And  so  it  is  individually,  and 
in  the  family,  and  in  the  Church,  and  in  the  world,  that  through  darkness 
and  storm  and  trouble  men,  women,  churches,  nations  are  developed. 

THE    ROYALTY    OF    FRIENDSHIP. 

I  also  see  in  the  example  of  Ruth  the  beauty  of  unfaltering  friendship.  I 
suppose  there  were  plenty  of  friends  for  Naomi  while  she  was  in  prosperity,  but  of 
all  her  acquaintances  how  many  were  willing  to  trudge  off  with  her  toward  Judah 
when  she  had  to  make  that  lonely  journey?  One — the  heroine  Ruth,  the 
devoted.  I  suppose  when  Naomi's  husband  was  living,  and  they  had 
plenty  of  money,  and  all  things  went  well,  they  had  a  great  many  callers, 
but  I  suppose  that  after  her  husband  died,  and  her  property  went,  and  she 
got  old  and  poor,  she  was  not  troubled  very  much  with  callers.  All  the  birds 
that  sung  in  the  bower  while  the  sun  shone  have  gone  to  their  nests  now  the 
night  has  fallen. 

Oh,  these  beautiful  sunflowers  that  spread  out  their  colors  in  the  morning 


^ 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  31 

hour,  but  are  always  asleep  when  the  sun  is  going  down !  Job  had  plenty  of 
friends  when  he  was  the  richest  man  in  Uz;  but  when  his  property  went  and 
the  trials  came,  then  there  were  none  so  much  that  pestered  as  Eliphaz,  the 
Temanite,  and  Bildad,  the  Shuhite,  and  Zophar,  the  Naamathite. 

Life  often  seems  to  be  a  mere  game,  where  the  successful  player  pulls 
down  all  the  other  men  into  his  own  lap.  Let  suspicions  arise  about  a  man's 
character,  and  he  becomes  like  a  bank  in  a  panic,  and  all  the  imputations 
rush  on  him  and  break  down  in  a  day  that  character  which  in  due  time 
would  have  had  strength  to  defend  itself.  There  are  reputations  that  have 
been  half  a  century  in  building,  which  go  down  under  some  moral  exposure, 
as  a  vast  temple  is  consumed  by  the  touch  of  a  sulphurous  match. 

In  this  world,  so  full  of  heartlessness  and  hypocrisy,  how  thrilling  it  is 
to  find  some  friend  as  faithful  in  days  of  adversity  as  in  days  of  prosperity! 
David  had  such  a  friend  in  Hushai ;  the  Jews  had  such  a  friend  in  Mordecai, 
who  never  forgot  their  cause ;  Paul  had  such  a  friend  in  Onesiphorus,  who 
visited  him  in  jail ;  Christ  had  such  a  friend  in  the  Marys,  who  adhered  to 
him  on  the  cross ;  Naomi  had  such  a  one  in  Ruth,  who  cried  out :  "  Entreat 
me  not  to  leave  thee  ;  or  to  return  from  following  after  thee  ;  for  whither  thou 
goest,  I  will  go  ;  and  where  thou  lodgest,  I  will  lodge  ;  thy  people  shall  be  my 
people,  and  thy  God  my  God;  where  thou  diest,  will  I  die,  and  there  will  I  be 
buried  :  the  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death  part  thee  and  me." 

DARKNESS    AND    DAWN. 

Again  I  learn  from  this  subject  that  paths  which  open  in  hardship  and 
darkness  often  come  out  in  places  of  joy.  When  Ruth  started  from  Moab 
toward  Jerusalem,  to  go  along  with  her  mother-in-law,  I  suppose  the  people 
said  : 

"  Oh,  what  a  foolish  creature  to  go  away  from  her  father's  house,  to  go 
off  with  a  poor  old  woman  toward  the  land  of  Judah !  They  won't  live  to  get 
across  the  desert.  They  will  be  drowned  in  the  sea,  or  the  jackals  of  the 
wilderness  will  destroy  them." 

It  was  a  very  dark  morning  when  Ruth  started  off  with  Naomi ;  but  behold 
her  in  the  harvest  field  of  Boaz,  to  be  affianced  to  one  of  the  lords  of  the  land, 
and  become  one  of  the  grandmothers*  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  Glory.  And 
so  it  often  is    that  a  path  which  starts  very  darkly  ends  very  brightly. 

When  you  started  out  for  heaven,  oh,  how  dark  was  the  hour  of  convic- 
tion— how  Sinai  thundered,  and  devils  tormented,  and  the  darkness  thickened  ! 
All  the  sins  of  your  life  pounced  upon  you,  and  it  was  the  darkest  hour  you 
ever  saw  when  you  first  found  out  your  sins.  After  a  while  you  went  into  the 
harvest-field  of  God's  mercy  ;  you  began  to  glean  in  the  fields  of  divine  promise, 
and  you  had  more  sheaves  than  you  could  carry,  as  the  voice  of  God  addressed 
you,  saying :  "  Blessed  is  the  man  whose  transgressions  are  forgiven  and  whose 
sins  are  covered."   ' 


THE    PATHWAY    OF    LIFE. 


33 


So,  very  often  in  our  worldly  business  or  in  our  spiritual  career,  we  start 
off  on  a  very  dark  path.  We  must  go.  The  flesh  may  shrink  back,  but  there 
is  a  voice  within,  or  a  voice  from  above,  saying:  "You  must  go,"  and  we 
have  to  drink  the  gall,  and  we  have  to  carry  the  cross,  and  we  have  to  traverse 
the  desert,  and  we  are  pounded  and  flailed  with  misrepresentation  and  abuse,  and 
we  have  to  urge  our  way  through  10,000  obstacles  that  must  be  slain  by  our 
own  right  arm.  We  have  to  ford  the  river,  we  have  to  climb  the  mountain, 
we   have  to  storm  the  castle ;  but,  blessed  be  God,  the  day  of  rest  and  reward 


THE   ENTOMBMENT. 


will  come.  On  the  tip-top  of  the  captured  battlements  we  will  shout  the  victory ; 
if  not  in  this  world,  then  in  that  world  where  there  is  no  gall  to  drink,  no 
burdens  to  carry,  no  battles  to  fight.  How  do  I  know  it  ?  Know  it !  I  know 
it  because  God  says  so :  "  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any 
more ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat ;  for  the  Lamb  which 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  lead  them  to  living  fountains  of  waters  : 
and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

It  was  very  hard  for  Noah  to  endure  the  scoffing  of  the  people  in  his  day, 
3 


34  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

while  he  was  trying  to  build  the  ark,  and  was  every  morning  quizzed  about 
his  old  boat  that  would  never  be  of  any  practical  use ;  but  when  the  deluge 
came,  and  the  tops  of  the  mountains  disappeared  like  the  backs  of  sea-monsters, 
and  the  elements,  lashed  up  in  fury,  clapped  their  hands  over  a  drowned 
world,  then  Noah  in  the  ark  rejoiced  in  his  own  safety  and  in  the  safety  of 
his  family,  and  looked  out  on  the  wreck  of  a  ruined  earth. 

Christ,  hounded  of  persecutors,  denied  a  pillow,  worse  maltreated  than  the 
thieves  on  either  side  of  the  cross,  human  hate  smacking  its  lips  in  satisfaction 
after  it  had  been  draining  His  last  drop  of  blood,  the  sheeted  dead  bursting 
from  the  sepulchres  at  His  crucifixion.  Tell  me,  O  Gethsemane  and  Golgotha ! 
were  there  ever  darker  times  than  those  ?  Like  the  booming  of  the  midnight 
sea  against  the  rock,  the  surges  of  Christ's  anguish  beat  against  the  gates  of 
eternity,  to  be  echoed  back  by  all  the  thrones  of  heaven  and  all  the  dungeons 
of  hell.  But  the  day  of  reward  conies  for  Christ ;  all  the  pomp  and  dominion 
of  this  world  are  to  be  hung  on  His  throne;  uncrowned  heads  are  to  bow  before 
Him  on  whose  head  are  many  crowns,  and  all  the  celestial  worship  is  to  come 
up  at  His  feet  like  the  humming  of  the  forest,  like  the  rushing  of  the  waters, 
like  the  thundering  of  the  seas,  while  all  heaven  rising  on  their  thrones  beat 
time  with  their  sceptres  :  "  Hallelujah,  for  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth  ! 
Hallelujah,  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  have  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord 
Jesus   Christ !" 

LITTLE   INCIDENTS   THAT   CHANGE  LIVES. 

I  learn  from  my  subject  that  events  which  seem  to  be  most  insignificant 
may  be  momentous.  Can  you  imagine  anything  more  unimportant  than  the 
coming  of  a  poor  woman  from  Moab  to  Judah  ?  Can  you  imagine  anything 
more  trivial  than  the  fact  that  this  Ruth  just  happened  to  alight — as  they  say — 
just  happened  to  alight  on  this  field  of  Boaz  ?  Yet  all  ages,  all  generations, 
have  an  interest  in  the  fact  that  she  was  to  become  an  ancestor  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  all  nations  and  kingdoms  must  look  at  that  one  little  inci- 
dent with  a  thrill  of  unspeakable  and  eternal  satisfaction.  So  it  is  in  your 
history  and  in  mine  ;  events  that  you  thought  of  no  importance  at  all  have 
been  of  very  great  moment.  That  casual  conversation,  that  accidental  meet- 
ing— you  did  not  think  of  it  again  for  a  long  while ;  but  how  it  changed  all 
the  phase  of  your  life ! 

It  seemed  to  be  of  no  importance  that  Jubal  invented  rude  instruments 
of  music,  calling  them  harp  and  organ,  but  they  were  the  introduction  of  all 
the  world's  minstrelsy  ;  and  as  you  hear  the  vibration  of  a  stringed  instru- 
ment, even  after  the  fingers  have  been  taken  away  from  it,  so  all  music  now 
of  lute  and  drum  and  cornet  is  only  the  long  continued  strains  of  Jubal's 
harp  and  Jubal's  organ.  It  seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  very  little  importance 
that.  Tubal-cain  learned  the  use  of  copper  and  iron,  but  that  rude  foundry  of 
ancient  days  has  its  echo  in  the  rattle  of  Birmingham  machinery  and  the 
roar  and  bang  of  factories  on  the  Merrimac. 


(35) 


36  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.       • 

It  seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  no  importance  that  Luther  found  a  Bible  in 
a  monastery ;  but  as  he  opened  that  Bible,  and  the  brass-bound  lids  fell  back, 
they  jarred  everything,  from  the  Vatican  to  the  furthest  convent  in  Germany, 
and  the  rustling  of  the  wormed  leaves  was  the  sound  of  the  wings  of  the 
angel  of  the  Reformation.  It  seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  no  importance  that  a 
woman,  whose  name  has  been  forgotten,  dropped  a  tract  in  the  way  of  a  very 
bad  man  by  the  name  of  Richard  Baxter.  He  picked  up  the  tract  and  read 
it,  and  it  was  the  means  of  his  salvation. 

In  after-days  that  man  wrote  a  book,  called  "  The  Call  to  the  Uncon- 
verted," that  was  the  means  of  bringing  a  multitude  to  God,  among  others 
Philip  Doddridge.  Philip  Doddridge  wrote  a  book,  called  "  The  Rise  and 
Progress  of  Religion,"  which  has  brought  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
into  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  among  others  the  great  Wilberforce.  Wilber- 
force  wrote  a  book,  called  "A  Practical  View  of  Christianity,"  which  was  the 
means  of  bringing  a  great  multitude  to  Christ,  among  others  Leigh  Rich- 
mond. Leigh  Richmond  wrote  a  tract,  called  "  The  Dairyman's  Daughter," 
which  h;is  been  the  means  of  the  salvation  of  uncounted  multitudes.  And 
that  ti  of  influence  started  from  the  fact  that  one  Christian  woman  dropped 
a  Christian  tract  in  the  way  of  Richard  Baxter — that  tide  of  influence  rolling 
on  through  Richard  Baxter,  through  Philip  Doddridge,  through  the  great 
Wilberforce,  through  Leigh  Richmond,  on,  on,  on,  forever,  forever.  So  the 
insignificant  events  of  this  world  seem,  after  all,  to  be  most  momentous.  The 
fact  that  you  came  up  that  street  or  this  street  seemed  to  be  of  no  importance 
to  you,  and  the  fact  that  you  went  inside  of  some  church  may  seem  to  be  a 
matter  of  very  great  insignificance  to  you,  but  you  will  find  it  the  turning 
point  in  your  history. 

FEMALE    INDUSTRY. 

I  see  in  my  subject  an  illustration  of  the  beauty  of  female  industry. 
Behold  Ruth  toiling  in  the  harvest-field  under  the  hot  sun,  or  at  noon  taking 
plain  bread  with  the  reapers,  or  eating  the  parched  corn  which  Boaz  handed 
to  her.  The  customs  of  societv,  of  course,  have  changed,  and  without  the 
hardships  and  exposure  to  which  Ruth  was  subjected,  every  intelligent  woman 
will  find  something  to  do. 

I  know  there  is  a  sickly  sentimentality  on  this  subject.  In  some  families 
there  are  persons  of  no  practical  service  to  the  household  or  community ;  and 
thongh  there  are  so  many  woes  all  around  about  them  in  the  world,  they 
spend  their  time  languishing  over  a  new  pattern,  or  bursting  into  tears  at 
midnight  over  the  story  of  some  lover  who  shot  himself.  They  would  not 
deign  to  look  at  Ruth  carrying  back  the  barley  on  her  way  home  to  her 
mother-in-law,  Naomi.  All  this  fastidiousness  may  seem  to  do  very  well  while 
they  are  under  the  shelter  of  their  father's  house ;  but  when  the  sharp  winter 
of   misfortune    comes,    what    of   these    butterflies  ?       Persons    under    indulgent 


A  VICTIM  TO  UNREQUITED  LOVE. 


(37) 


38  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

parentage  may  get  upon  themselves  habits  of  indolence ;  but  when  they  come 
out  into  practical  life  their  souls  will  recoil  with  disgust  and  chagrin.  They 
will  feel  in  their  hearts  what  the  poet  so  severely  satirized  when  he  said : 

Folks  are  so  awkward,   things  so  impolite, 
They're  elegantly  pained  from  morning  till  night. 

Through  that  gate  of  indolence  how  many  men  and  women  have  marched^ 
useless  on  earth,  to  a  destroyed  eternity !      Spiuola  said  to  Sir  Horace  Vere : 

"  Of  what  did  your  brother  die  ?" 

"  Of  having  nothing  to  do,"  was  the  answer. 

"Ah,"  said  Spinola,  "  that's  enough  to  kill  any  general  of  us.' 

Oh !  can  it  be  possible  in  this  world,  where  there  is  so  much  suffering  to 
l>e  alleviated,  so  much  darkness  to  be  enlightened,  and  so  many  burdens  to  be 
tarried,  that  there  is  any  person  who  cannot  find  anything  to  do  ? 

Mme.  De  Stael  did  a  world  of  work  in  her  time ;  and,  one  day,  while  she 
was  seated  amid  instruments  of  music,  all  of  which  she  had  mastered,  and 
imid  manuscript  books  which  she  had  written,   some  one  said  to  her : 

"  How  do  you  find  time  to  attend  to  all  these  things  ?" 

"  Oh,"  she  replied,  "  these  are  not  the  things  I  am  proud  of.  My  chief 
boast  is  in  the  fact  that  I  have  seventeen  trades,  by  any  one  of  which  I 
could  make  a  livelihood  if  necessary." 

Elihu  Burritt  learned  many  things  while  toiling  in  a  blacksmith's  shop. 
Abercrombie,  the  world-renowned  philosopher,  was  a  philosopher  in  Scotland,, 
and  he  got  his  philosophy,  or  the  chief  part  of  it,  while,  as  a  physician,  he 
was  waiting  for  the  door  of  the  sick  room  to  open.  Yet  how  many  there  are 
in  this  day  who  say  they  are  so  busy  they  have  no  time  for  mental  or  spiri- 
tual improvement ;  the  great  duties  of  life  cross  the  field  like  strong  reapers- 
and  carry  off  all  the  hours,  and  there  is  only  here  and  there  a  fragment  left 
chat  is  not  worth  gleaning.  Ah,  my  friends,  you  could  go  into  the  busiest 
day  and  busiest  week  of  your  life  and  find  golden  opportunities,  which,  gath- 
ered, might  at  least  make  a  whole  sheaf  for  the  Lord's  garner.  It  is  the 
stray  opportunities  and  the  stray  privileges  which,  taken  up  and  bound 
together  and  beaten  out,  will  at  last  fill  you  with  abounding  joy. 

There  are  a  few  moments  left  worth  the  gleaning.  Now,  Ruth,  to  the 
field !  May  each  one  have  a  measure  full  and  running  over !  O  you  gleaners, 
to  the  field !  And  if  there  be  in  your  household  an  aged  one  or  a  sick  rela- 
tive that  is  not  strong  enough  to  come  forth  and  toil  in  this  field,  then  let 
Ruth  take  home  to  feeble  Naomi  this  sheaf  of  gleaning :  "  He  that  goeth 
forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  with 
rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him."  May  the  Lord  God  of  Ruth  and 
Naomi  be  our  portion  forever ! 


- 


5Ei)e  lvalue  of  Bereavements. 

SORROW   SENT  TO   QUICKEN   OUR   APPRECIATION. 

HE  brigands  of  Jerusalem  had  done  their  work.  It 
was  almost  sundown,  and  Jesus  was  dying.  Persons 
in  crucifixion  often  lingered  on  from  day  to  day — 
crying,  begging,  cursing;  but  Christ  had  been  ex- 
hausted by  years  of  maltreatment.  Pillowless,  poorly 
fed,  flogged — as  bent  over  and  tied  to  a  low  post,  His 
bare  back  was  inflamed  with  the  scourges,  intersticed 
with  pieces  of  lead  and  bone — and  now  for  whole  hours  the 
weight  of  His  body  hung  on  delicate  tendons,  and,  according 
to  custom,  a  violent  stroke  under  the  arm-pits  had  been  given 
by  the  executioner.  Dizzy,  swooning,  nauseated,  feverish — a 
world  of  agony  is  compressed  in  the  two  words,  "  I  thirst !" 
O  skies  of  Judea,  let  a  drop  of  rain  strike  His  burning 
tongue.  O  world,  with  rolling  rivers  and  sparkling  lakes, 
and  sparkling  fountains,  give  Jesus  something  to  drink.  If 
there  is  any  pity  in  earth  or  heaven,  or  hell,  let  it  now  be 
demonstrated  in  behalf  of  this  royal  sufferer.  The  wealthy 
women  of  Jerusalem  used  to  have  a  fund  of  money  with 
which  they  provided  wine  for  those  people  who  died  in  cruci- 
fixion— a  powerful  opiate  to  deaden  the  pain ;  but  Christ 
would  not  take  it.  He  wanted  to  die  sober,  and  so  He  refused  the  wine.  But 
afterward  they  go  to  a  cup  of  vinegar  and  soak  a  sponge  in  it,  and  put  it  on 
a  stick  of  hyssop,  and  then  press  it  against  the  hot  lips  of  Christ.  You  say 
the  wine  was  an  anaesthetic,  and  intended  to  relieve  or  deaden  the  pain.  But 
the  vinegar  was  an  insult.  I  am  disposed  to  adopt  the  theory  of  the  old 
English  commentators,  who  believed  that,  instead  of  its  being  an  opiate  to 
soothe,  it  was  vinegar  to  insult.  Malaga  and  Burgundy  for  Grand  Dukes  and 
Duchesses,  and  costly  wines  from  royal  vats  for  bloated  imperialists ;  but 
stinging  acids  for  a  dying  Christ. 


BITTER   SWEET. 

In  some  lives  the  saccharine  seems  to  predominate.  Life  is  sunshine  on  a 
bank  of  flowers.  A  thousand  hands  to  clap  approval !  In  December  or  in 
January,  looking  across  their  table,  they  see  all  their  family  present.  Health 
*-ubicund.  Skies  flamboyant.  Days  resilient.  But  in  a  great  many  cases  there 
are  not  so  many  sugars  as  acids.     The  annoyances,  and  the  vexations,  and  the 

(39) 


(4o) 


death  OF  miss  langdon. — From  the  Painting  by  Wm.  Fred.    Yeames. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


4i 


disappointments  of  life  overpower  the  successes.  There  is  a  gravel  in  almost 
every  shoe.  An  Arabian  legend  says  that  there  was  a  worm  in  Solomon's 
staff,  gnawing  its  strength  away ;  and  there  is  a  weak  spot  in  every  earthly 
support  that  a  man  leans  on.  King  George,  of  England,  forgot  all  the  grand- 
eurs of  his  throne  because,  one  day,  in  an  interview,  Beau  Brummel  called  him 
by  his  first  name,  and  addressed  him  as  a  servant,  crying  :  "  George,  ring  the 
bell !"  Miss  Langdon, 
honored  all  the  world 
over  for  her  poetical  ge- 
nius, is  so  worried  over 
the  evil  reports  set  afloat 
regarding  her  that  she 
is  found  dead,  with  an 
empty  bottle  of  prussic 
acid  in  her  hand.  Gold- 
smith said  that  his  life 
was  a  wretched  being, 
and  all  that  want  and 
contempt  could  bring  to 
it  had  been  brought,  and 
cries  out :  "  What,  then, 
is  there  formidable  in  a 
jail!"  Correggio's  fine 
painting  is  hung  up  for 
a  tavern  sign.  Hogarth 
cannot  sell  his  best  paint- 
ing, except  through  a 
raffle.  Andrew  Delsart 
makes  the  great  fresco 
in  the  Church  of  the  An- 
nunciation, at  Florence, 
and  gets  for  pay  a  sack 
of  corn  ;  and  there  are 
annoyance  and  vexations 
in  high  places  as  well 
as  in  low  places,  showing 
that  in  a  great  many 
lives  the  sours  are 
greater  than  the  sweets. 

It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  man  who  has  always  been  well  can  sympa- 
thize with  those  who  are  sick ;  or  that  one  who  has  always  been  honored  can 
appreciate  the  sorrows  of  those  who  are  despised  ;  or  that  one  who  has  been 
born  to  a  great    fortune    can    tmderstand  the    distress    and  the  straits  of  those 


DEAD   FOR  OUR   TRANSGRESSIONS. 
(From  a  handkerchief  painttd  by  Gabriel  Max.) 

This  picture  has  been  regarded  by  many  simple  people  as  being  of  miraculous  origin,  a  superstition 
strengthened  by  a  Irick  of  the  artist,  who  has  so  painted  the  eyes  that  when  examined  steadily 
for  a  few  moments  they  seem  to  open  and  are  then  seen  plainly  to  be  looking  upward. 


42  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

who  are  destitute.  The  fact  that  Christ  Himself  took  the  vinegar  makes  Him 
able  to  sympathize  to-day  and  forever  with  all  those  whose  cup  is  filled  with 
sharp  acids  of  this  life. 

In  the  first  place  there  is  the  sourness  of  betrayal.  The  treachery  of  Judas 
hurt  Christ's  feelings  more  than  all  the  friendship  of  His  disciples  did  Him 
good.  You  have  had  many  friends  ;  but  there*  was  one  friend  upon  whom  you 
put  especial  stress.  You  feasted  him.  You  loaned  him  money.  You  befriended 
him  in  the  dark  passes  of  life,  when  he  especially  needed  a  friend.  Afterward, 
he  turned  upon  you,  and  he  took  advantage  of  your  former  intimacies.  He 
wrote  against  you.  He  talked  against  you.  He  microscopized  your  faults.  He 
flung  contempt  at  you  when  you  ought  to  have  received  nothing  but  gratitude. 
At  first  you  could  not  sleep  at  nights.  Then  you  went  about  with  a  sense  of 
having  been  stung.  That  difficulty  will  never  be  healed,  for,  though  mutual 
friends  may  arbitrate  in  the  matter  until  you  shall  shake  hands,  the  old  cor- 
diality will  never  come  back.  Now,  I  commend  to  all  such  the  sympathy  of  a 
betrayed  Christ.  Why,  they  sold  Him  for  less  than  our  twenty  dollars.  They 
all  forsook  Him  and  fled.  They  cut  Him  to  the  quick.  He  drank  that  cup 
of  betrayal  to  the  dregs. 

There  is  also  the  sourness  of  pain.  There  are  some  of  you  who  have  not 
seen  a  well  day  for  many  years.  By  keeping  out  of  draughts,  and  by  care- 
fully studying  dietetics,  you  continue  to  this  time;  but  oh,  the  headaches,  and 
the  sideaches,  and  the  backaches,  and  the  heartaches  which  have  been  your 
accompaniment  all  the  way  through !  You  have  struggled  under  a  heavy 
mortgage  of  physical  disabilities;  and  instead  of  the  placidity  that  once  charac- 
terized you,  it  is  now  only  with  great  effort  that  you  keep  away  from  irrita- 
bility and  sharp  retort.  Difficulties  of  respiration,  of  digestion,  of  locomotion, 
make  up  the  great  obstacle  in  your  life,  and  you  tug  and  sweat  along  the 
pathway,  and  wonder  when  the  exhaustion  will  end.  My  friends,  the  brightest 
crowns  in  heaven  will  not  be  given  to  those  who,  in  stirrups,  dashed  to  the 
cavalry  charge,  while  the  General  applauded,  and  the  sound  of  clashing  sabres 
rang  through  the  land ;  but  the  brightest  crowns  in  heaven,  I  believe,  will  be 
given  to  those  who  trudged  on  amid  chronic  ailments  which  unnerved  their 
strength,  yet  all  the  time  maintaining  their  faith  in  God.  It  is  comparatively 
easy  to  fight  in  a  regiment  of  one  thousand  men,  charging  up  the  parapets  to 
the  sound  of  martial  music ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  endure  when  no  one  but 
the  nurse  and  the  doctor  are  the  witnesses  of  the  Christian  fortitude.  Besides 
that  you  never  had  any  pains  worse  than  Christ's.  The  sharpness  that  stung 
through  His  brain,  through  His  hands,  through  His  feet,  through  His  heart, 
were  as  great  as  yours  certainly.  He  was  as  sick  and  as  weary.  Not  a  nerve, 
or  muscle,  or  ligament  escaped.  All  the  pangs  of  all  the  nations  of  all  the  ages 
compressed  into  one  sour  cup. 


► 


§ 

H 
O 

o 
H 

S 

: 
- 

o 
r 
o 

> 
3 

H 

> 


> 

■a 
S 
r 
> 


(43) 


44  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


THE   VANITY    OP   WEALTH   AND   GENIUS. 

There  is  also  the  sourness  of  poverty.  Your  income  does  not  meet  your 
outgoings,  and  that  always  gives  an  honest  man  anxiety.  There  is  no  sign 
of  destitution  about  you — pleasant  appearance  and  a  cheerful  home  for  you  ; 
but  God  only  knows  what  a  time  you  have  had  to  manage  your  private 
finances.  Just  as  the  bills  run  up  the  wages  seem  to  run  down.  But  you 
are  not  the  only  one  who  has  not  been  paid  for  hard  work.  The  great  Wilkie 
sold  his  celebrated  piece,  "The  Blind  Fiddler,"  for  fifty  guineas,  although 
afterwards  it  brought  its  thousands.  The  world  hangs  in  admiration  over  the 
sketch  of  Gainsborough,  yet  that  very  sketch  hung  for  years  in  the  shop- 
window  because  there  was  not  any  purchaser.  Oliver  Goldsmith  sold  his 
"Vicar  of  Wakefield"  for  a  few  pounds,  in  order  to  keep  the  bailiff  out  of  his 
door;  and  the  vast  majority  of  men  in  all  occupations  and  professions  are  not 
fully  paid  for  their  work.  You  may  say  nothing,  but  life  to  you  is  a  hard 
push;  and  when  you  sit  down  with  your  wife  and  talk  over  the  expenses,  you 
both  rise  up  discouraged.  You  abridge  here,  and  you  abridge  there,  and  you 
get  things  snug  for  smooth  sailing,  and  lo!  suddenly  there  is  a  large  doctor's 
bill  to  pay,  or  you  have  lost  your  pocketbook,  or  some  creditor  has  failed,  and 
you  are  thrown  abeam  end.  Well,  brother,  you  are  in  glorious  company. 
Christ  owned  not  the  house  in  which  He  stopped,  or  the  colt  on  which  He 
rode,  or  the  boat  in  which  He  sailed.  He  lived  in  a  borrowed  house;  He  was 
buried  in  a  borrowed  grave.  Exposed  to  all  kinds  of  weather,  yet  He  had 
only  one  suit  of  clothes.  He  breakfasted  in  the  morning,  and  no  one  could 
possibly  tell  where  He  could  get  anything  to  eat  before  night.  He  would 
have  been  pronounced  a  financial  failure.  He  had  to  perform  a  miracle  to  get 
money  to  pay  a  tax  bill.  Not  a  dollar  did  He  own.  Privation  of  domesticity; 
privation  of  nutritious  food;  privation  of  a  comfortable  couch  on  which  to  sleep; 
privation  of  all  worldly  resources.  The  kings  of  the  earth  had  chased  chalices 
out  of  which  to  drink,  but  Christ  had  nothing  but  a  plain  cup  set  before  Him, 
and  it  was  very  sharp,  and  it  was  very  sour. 

There  also  is  the  sourness  of  bereavement.  There  were  years  that  passed 
along  before  your  family  circle  was  invaded  by  death;  but  the  moment  the 
charmed  circle  was  broken  everything  seemed  to  dissolve.  Hardly  have  you 
put  the  black  apparel  in  the  wardrobe  before  you  have  again  to  take  it  out. 
Great  and  rapid  changes  in  your  family  record.  You  got  the  house  and 
rejoiced  in  it,  but  the  charm  was  gone  as  soon  as  the  crape  hung  on  the 
door-bell.  The  one  upon  whom  you  most  depended  was  taken  away  from  you. 
A  cold  marble  slab  lies  on  your  heart  to-day.  Once,  as  the  children  romped 
through  the  house,  you  put  your  hand  over  your  aching  head  and  said:  "Oh, 
if  I  could  only  have  it  still."  Oh,  it  is  too  still  now.  You  lost  your  patieuce 
when  the  tops  and  the  strings  and  the  shells  were  left  amid  the  floor,  but  olit 
you  would  be  willing   to   have    the    trinkets    scattered  all  over  the  floor  again, 


- 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


45 


if  they  were  scattered  by  the  same  hands.  With  what  a  ruthless  plowshare 
bereavement  rips  up  the  heart.  But  Jesus  knows  all  about  that.  You  cannot 
tell  Him  anything  in  regard  to  bereavement.  He  had  only  a  few  friends,  and 
when  He  lost  one  it  brought  tears  to  His  eyes.  Lazarus  had  often  entertained 
Him  at  his  house.  Now  Lazarus  is  dead  and  buried,  and  Christ  breaks  down 
with    emotion — the    convulsion    of    grief    shuddering    through    all    the    ages  of 


THE  ANGEL'S  WHISPER. 


bereavement.  Christ  knows  what  it  is  to  go  through  the  house  missing  a 
familiar  inmate.  Christ  knows  what  it  is  to  see  an  unoccupied  place  at  the 
table.  Were  there  not  four  of  them — Mary,  and  Martha,  and  Christ,  and 
Lazarus  ?  Four  of  them.  But  where  is  Lazarus  ?  Lonely  and  afflicted  Christ, 
His  great    loving    eyes    filled  with    tears,    which    drop    from    eye  to  cheek,  and 


46  '  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

from  cheek  to  beard,  and  from  beard  to  robe,  and  from  robe  to  floor.     Oh,  yes, 
yes,  He  knows  all  about  the  loneliness  and  the  heartbreak. 

THE   HOUR    OF    DEATH. 

Then  there  is  the  sourness  of  the  death'  hour.  Whatever  else  we  may 
escape,  that  acid  sponge  will  be  pressed  to  our  lips.  I  sometimes  have  a 
curiosity  to  know  how  I  will  behave  when  I  come  to  die.  Whether  I  will  be 
calm  or  excited ;  whether  I  will  be  filled  with  reminiscences  or  with  anticipa- 
tion. I  cannot  say.  But  come  to  the  point  I  must,  and  you  must.  In  the 
six  thousand  years  that  have  passed,  only  two  persons  have  got  into  the 
eternal  world  without  death,  and  I  do  not  suppose  that  God  is  going  to  send 
a  carriage  for  us  with  horses  of  flame,  to  draw  us  up  the  steeps  of  heaven  ; 
but  I  suppose  we  will  have  to  go  like  the  preceding  generations.  An  officer 
of  the  future  world  will  knock  at  the  door  of  our  heart  and  serve  on  us  the 
writ  of  ejectment,  and  we  will  have  to  surrender.  And  we  will  wake  up  after 
these  autumnal,  and  wintry,  and  vernal,  and  summery  glories  have  vanished 
from  our  vision — we  will  wake  up  into  a  realm  which  has  only  one  season, 
and  that  the  season  of  everlasting  love.  But  you  say  :  "  I  don't  want  to  break 
out  from  my  present  associations.  It  is  so  chill}7  and  so  damp  to  go  down 
the  stairs  of  that  vault.  I  don't  want  anything  drawn  so  tightly  over  my 
eyes.  If  there  were  only  some  way  of  breaking  through  the  partition  between 
worlds  without  tearing  this  body  all  to  shreds.  I  wonder  if  the  surgeons  and 
the  doctors  cannot  compound  .  a  mixture  by  which  this  body  and  soul  can  all 
the  time  be  kept  together.      Is  there  no  escape  from  the   separation  ? " 

A  great  many  men  tumble  through  the  gates  of  the  future,  as  it 
were,  and  we  do  not  know  where  they  have  gone,  and  they  only  add  gloom 
and  mystery  to  the  passage ;  but  Jesus  Christ  so  mightily  stormed  the 
gates  of  that  future  world  that  they  have  never  since  been  closely  shut. 
Christ  knows  what  it  is  to  leave  this  world,  of  the  beauty  of  which  He  was 
more  appreciative  than  we  ever  could  be.  He  knows  the  exquisiteness  of  the 
phosphorescence  of  the  sea;  He  trod  it.  He  knows  the  glories  of  the  mid- 
night heavens,  for  they  were  the  spangled  canopy  of  His  wilderness  pillow. 
He  knows  about  the  lilies :  He  twisted  them  into  His  sermon.  He  knows 
about  the  fowls  of  the  air :  they  whirred  their  way  through  His  discourse. 
He  knows  about  the  sorrows  of  leaving  this  beautiful  world.  Not  a  taper  was 
kindled  in  the  darkness.  He  died  physicianless.  He  died  in  cold  sweat  and 
dizziness,  and  hemorrhage,  and  agony  that  have  put  Him  in  sympathy  with 
all  the  dying.  He  goes  through  Christendom,  and  He  gathers  up  the  stings 
out  of  all  the  death  pillows,  and  He  puts  them  under  His  own  neck  and  head. 
He  gathers  on  His  own  tongue  the  burning  thirsts  of  many  generations.  The 
sponge  is  soaked  in  the  sorrow  of  all  those  who  have  died  in  their  beds  as 
well  as  soaked  in  the  sorrows  of  all  those  who  perished  in  icy  or  fiery  martyr- 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


47 


dom.      While    heaven   was    pitying,    and    earth    was    mocking,    and    hell    was 
deriding,  He  took  the  vinegar ! 

To  all  those  to  whom    life    has    been  an    acerbity — a    dose    they  could  not 


perish ableness.— Painted  by  the  Crown  Princess  of  Germany. 

swallow,  a  draught  that  set  their  teeth    on  edge  and  a-rasping — I   bespeak   the 
■omnipotent  sympathy  of  Jesus  Christ.     The  sister  of  Herschel,  the  astronomer, 


48  THE    PATHWAY  OF   LIFE. 

used  to  help  him  in  his  work.  He  got  all  the  credit ;  she  got  none.  She 
used  to  spend  much  of  her  time  polishing  the  telescopes  through  which  he 
brought  the  distant  worlds  nigh,  and  it  is  my  ambition  now,  this  hour,  to 
clear  the  lens  of  your  spiritual  vision,  so  that,  looking  through  the  dark  night 
of  your  earthly  troubles,  you  may  behold  the  glorious  constellation  of  a 
Saviour's  mercy  and  a  Saviour's  love.  Oh !  my  friends !  do  not  try  to  carry 
all  your  ills  alone.  Do  not  put  your  poor  shoulder  under  the  Apennines  when 
the  Almighty  Christ  is  ready  to  lift  up  all  your  burdens.  When  you  have 
a  trouble  of  any  kind,  you  rush  this  way,  and  that  way ;  and  you  wonder 
what  this  man  will  say  about  it,  and  what  that  man  will  say  about  it ;  and 
you  try  this  prescription,  and  that  prescription,  and  the  other  prescription. 
Oh,  why  do  you  not  go  straight  to  the  heart  of  Christ,  knowing  that  for  our 
own  sinning  and  suffering  race,  He  took  the  vinegar !  "  Whosoever  will,  let 
him  come  and  take  of  the  water  of  life  freely." 

Yet,  while  I  write  I  am  pained  at  the  thought  that  there  are  people 
who  will  refuse  this  divine  sympathy,  and  they  will  try  to  fight  their  own 
battles,  and  drink  their  own  vinegar,  and  carry  their  own  burdens ;  and  their 
life,  instead  of  being  a  triumphal  march  from  victory  to  victory,  will  be  a 
hobbling-on  from  defeat  to  defeat,  until  they  make  final  surrender  to  retributive 
disaster.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  gather  up  in  mine  arms  all  the  woes  of  men  and 
women — all  their  heartaches — all  their  disappointments — all  their  chagrins — 
and  just  take  them  right  to  the  feet  of  a  sympathizing  Jesus. 

Nana  Sahib,  after  he  had  lost  his  last  battle  in  India,  fell  back  into  the 
jungles  of  Iheri — jungles  so  full  of  malaria  that  no  mortal  can  live  there. 
He  carried  with  him  also  a  ruby  of  great  lustre  and  of  great  value.  He  died 
in  those  jungles;  his  body  was  never  found  and  the  ruby  has  never  yet  been 
recovered.  And  I  fear  that  there  are  some  who  will  fall  back  from  this  sub- 
ject into  the  sickening,  killing  jungles  of  their  sin,  carrying  a  gem  of  infinite 
value — a  priceless  soul — to  be  lost  forever.  Oh,  that  that  ruby  might  flash  in 
the  eternal  coronation.  But  no.  There  are  many,  I  fear,  who  will  turn  away 
from  this  offered  mercy  and  comfort  and  Divine  sympathy,  notwithstanding 
that  Christ,  for  all  who  would  accept  His  grace,  trudged  the  long  way  and 
suffered  the  lacerating  thongs  and  received  in  His  face  the  expectorations  of 
the  filthy  mob,  and  for  the  guilty,  and  the  discouraged,  and  the  discomforted 
of  the  race,  took  the  vinegar.  May  God  Almighty  break  the  infatuation  and 
lead  you  out  into  the  strong  hope,  and  the  good  cheer,  and  the  glorious  sun- 
shine of  this  triumphant  gospel. 


Christ's  l&mgtiom  on  (Bartf). 

THE  DAY   OF  FINAL   REWARD. 

HERE  persecutors  used  to  let  out  the  half-starved 
lions  to  eat  up  Christians  in  the  Colosseum  at 
Rome,  there  is  now  planted  the  figure  of  a  cross. 
And  I  rejoice  to  know  that  the  transverse  piece 
of  wood  nailed  to  an  upright  piece  has  become 
the  symbol,  not  more  of  suffering  than  of  vic- 
tory. It  is  of  Christ  the  Conqueror  that  I  wish 
to  speak.  As  a  kingly  warrior,  having  sub- 
►  \v^^^^b^^%  ,/• k  dued  an    empire,  might    divide    the    palaces,  and 

mansions,    and    cities,    and    valleys,    and    moun- 
tains   among   his    officers,  so    Christ   is    going  to  divide 
up  all    the  earth  and  all    the    heavens    among  His  peo- 
ple, and  you  and  I  will    have  to  take    our    share  if  so 
be  that  we  are  strong  in  faith  and    strong    in    our   Christian 
loyalty. 

Do  I  really  mean  all  the  earth  will  surrender  to  Christ  ?  Yes.  How  about 
the  uninviting  portions  ?  Will  Greenland  be  evangelized  ?  The  possibility  is 
that  after  a  few  more  hundred  brave  lives  are  dashed  out  among  the  icebergs, 
that  great  refrigerator,  the  polar  region,  will  be  given  uprto  the  walrus  and  the 
bear,  and  that  the  inhabitants  will  come  down  by  invitation  into  tolerable 
climates ;  or  those  climates  may  soften,  and,  as  it  has  been  positively  demon- 
strated that  the  Arctic  region  was  once  a  blooming  garden  and  a  fruitful  field, 
those  regions  may  change  climate  and  again  be  a  blooming  garden  and  a  fruit- 
ful field.  It  is  proved  beyond  controversy  by  German  and  American  scientists 
that  the  Arctic  regions  were  the  first  portions  of  this  world  inhabitable ;  when 
the  world  was  hot  beyond  human  endurance,  these  regions  were,  of  course,  the 
first  to  be  cool  enough  for  human  foot  and  human  lung.  It  is  positively  proved 
that  the  Arctic  region  had  a  tropical  climate.  Prof.  Heer,  of  Zurich,  says  the 
remains  of  flowers  have  been  found  in  the  Arctic,  showing  it  was  like  Mexico 
for  climate,  and  it  was  found  that  the  Arctic  was  the  mother-region  from  which 
all  the  flowers  descended.  Prof.  Wallace  says  the  remains  of  all  styles  of 
animal  life  are  found  in  the  Arctic,  including  those  animals  that  can  live  only 

4  -  (49) 


(50) 


From  the  bas-relief  by  J.   G.  Lough. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  51 

in  warm  climates.  Now,  that  Arctic  region  which  has  been  demonstrated,  by 
flora,  and  fauna,  and  geological  argument,  to  have  been  as  full  of  vegetation 
.and  life  as  our  Florida,  may  be  turned  back  to  its  original  bloom  and  glory, 
or  it  will  be  shut  up  as  a  museum  of  crystals  for  curiosity  seekers  once  in  a 
while  to  visit.  Both  Arctic  and  Antarctic,  in  some  shape,  will  belong  to  the 
.Redeemer's  realm. 

DESERTS  TO   BE   RECLAIMED. 

What  about  other  unproductive  or  repulsive  regions?  All  the  deserts 
shall  be  irrigated,  the  waters  will  be  forced  up  to  the  great  American  desert 
between  here  and  the  Pacific  by  machinery  now  known  or  yet  to  be  invented, 
and,  as  Great  Salt  Lake  City  has  no  rain  and  could  not  raise  an  apple  or  a 
bushel  of  wheat  in  a  hundred  years  without  artificial  help,  but  is  now  through 
such  means  one  great  garden,  so  all  the  unproductive  parts  of  all  the  conti- 
nents will  be  turned  into  harvest  fields  and  orchards.  A  half  dozen  De  Lesseps 
will  furnish  the  world  with  all  the  canals  needed,  and  will  change  the  course 
of  rivers  and  open  new  lakes,  and  the  great  Sahara  Desert  will  be  cut  up  into 
farms,  with  an  astounding  yield  of  bushels  to  the  acre.  The  marsh  will  be 
drained  of  its  waters  and  cured  of  its  malaria.  I  saw  the  other  day  what  was 
for  many  years  called  the  Black  Swamp  of  Ohio,  its  chief  crop  chills  and  fevers, 
but  now,  by  the  tiles  put  into  the  ground  to  carry  off  the  surplus  moisture, 
transformed  into  the  richest  and  healthiest  of  regions.  The  God  who  wastes 
nothing,  I  think,  means  that  this  world,  from  pole  to  pole,  has  to  come  to  per- 
fection of  foliage  and  fruitage.  For  that  reason  he  keeps  us  running  through 
space,  though  so  many  fires  are  blazing  down  in  its  timbers,  and  so  many  mock 
terrors  have  threatened  to  dash  it  to  pieces.  As  soon  as  the  earth  is  com- 
pleted Christ  will  divide  it  up  among  the  good.  The  reason  he  does  not  divide 
it  now  is  because  it  is  not  done.  A  kind  father  will  not  divide  the  apple 
among  his  children  until  the  apple  is  ripe,  In  fulfilment  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment promise,  "  The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth,"  and  the  promise  of  the 
Old  Testament,  "  He  shall  divide  the  spoil  with  the  strong,"  the  world  will 
be  apportioned  to  those  worthy  to  possess  it. 

It  is  not  so  now.  In  this  country,  capable  of  holding,  feeding,  clothing  and 
sheltering  twelve  hundred  million  people,  and  where  we  have  only  60,000,000 
inhabitants,  we  have  2,000,000  who  cannot  get  honest  work,  and  with  their 
families  an  aggregation  of  20,000,000  that  are  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Some- 
thing wrong  most  certainly.  In  some  way  there  will  be  a  new  apportionment. 
Many  of  the  millionaire  estates  will  crack  to  pieces  on  the  dissipations  of  grand- 
children, and  then  dissolve  into  the  possession  of  the  masses  who  now  have  an 
insufficiency.  > 

WHAT   OF   CERTAIN    BUILDINGS  ? 

What,  you  say,  will  become  of  the  expensive  and  elaborate  buildings  now 
-devoted  to    debasing   amusements  ?      They  will  become  schools,   art    galleries, 


(53) 


America.— From  the  group  in  marble  by  John  Bell. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


53 


museums,  gymnasiums  and  churches.  The  world  is  already  getting  disgusted 
with  many  of  these  amusements,  and  no  wonder.  What  an  importation  of 
unclean  theatrical  stuff  we  have  had  brought  to  our  shores  within  the  last  few 
years !  And  professors  of  religion  patronizing  such  things !  Having  sold  out 
to  the  devil,  why  don't  you  deliver  the  goods  and  go  over  to  him  publicly, 
body,  mind  and  soul,  and  withdraw  your  name  from  Christian  churches, 
and  say :  "  Know  all  the  world  by  these  presents  that  I  am  a  patron  of 
uncleanliness  and  a  child  of  hell."  Sworn  to  be  the  Lord's,  you  are  perjurers. 
But  at  last  the  tide  has  turned,  and  the  despisers  of  purity  overdid  the 
matter.      A  foreign    actress    of  base    morals    arrived  intending  to  make  a  tour 





. 


a  dirge  in  the  African  desert. — From  a  Painting  by  J.  N.  Neltleship. 


of  the  States,  but  the  remaining  decency  of  our  cities  rose  up  and  cancelled 
the  contracts  and  drove  her  back  from  our  American  stage,  a  woman  fit  for 
neither  continent.  In  the  name  of  Almighty  God  I  take  these  abominations 
by  the  throat.  If  you  think  those  offenses  are  to  go  on  forever,  you  do  not 
know  who  the  Lord  is.  God  will  not  wait  for  the  day  of  judgment.  All 
these  palaces  of  sin  will  become  palaces  of  righteousness.  They  will  come  into 
the   possession  of  those  strong  for  virtue   and   strong  for  God. 

China  and  Africa,  the  two  richest  portions  of  the  earth  by  reason  of  metals 


54 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


and  rare  woods,  and  inexhaustible  productiveness,  are  not  yet  divided  up  among 
the  good  because  they  are  not  ready  to  be  divided.  Wait  until  all  the  doors 
that  Livingstone  opened  in  Africa  shall  be  entered,  and  Bishop  Taylor  with  his 
band  of  self-supporting  missionaries  have  done  their  work,  and  the  Ashantees 
and  Senegambians  shall  know  Christ  as  well  as  you  know  Him,  and  there  shall 
be  on  the  banks  of   the  Nile  and  the  Niger  a    higher  civilization  than  is  now 


LANDING   pF  THE    ROMANS,    UNDER    C^fiSAR,    IN    BRITAIN,    B.    C.    55. 

to  be  found  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  then  Christ  will  divide  up  that  con- 
tinent among  His  friends.  Wait  until  China,  which  is  half  as  large  as  all 
Europe,  shall  have  developed  her  capacities  for  rice,  and  tea,  and  sugar,  among 
edibles ;  and  her  amethyst,  and  sapphire,  and  topaz,  and  opal,  and  jasper,  and 
porphyry,  among  precious  stones  ;  and  her  rosewood,  and  ebony,  and  camphor, 
and  varnish  trees    among    precious  woods  ;    and  turned    up  from   her  depths  a 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  55 

half  dozen  Pennsylvanias  of  coal  and  iron,  and  twenty  Nevadas  of  silver,  and 
fifty  Californias  of  gold,  and  her  500,000,000  of  people  shall  be  evangelized; 
then  the  Lord  will  divide  it  up  among  the  good. 

CHRISTIAN   FARMERS. 

If  the  Lord's  promise  be  not  a  deception,  but  the  eternal  truth,  then  the  time 
is  coming  when  all  the  farms  will  be  owned  by  Christian  farmers,  and  all  the 
commerce  controlled  by  Christian  merchants,  and  all  the  authority  held  by 
Christian  officials,  and  all  the  ships  commanded  by  Christian  captains,  and  all 
the  universities  under  the  instruction  of  Christian  professors ;  Christian  kings. 
Christian  presidents,  Christian  governors,  Christian  mayors,  Christian  common 
councils.  Yet,  what  a  scouring  out !  what  an  upturning !  what  a  demolition ! 
what  a  resurrection  must  precede  this  new  apportionment  ! 

I  do  not  underrate  the  enemy.  Julius  Caesar  got  his  greatest  victories  by 
fully  estimating  the  vastness  of  his  foes  and  prepared  his  men  for  their  greatest 
triumph  by  saying:  "To-morrow  King  Juba  will  be  here  with  30,000  horses, 
100,000  skirmishers,  and  300  elephants." 

I  do  not  underrate  the  vast  forces  of  sin  and  death,  but  do  you  know  who 
commands  us  ?  Jehovah-Jireh.  And  the  reserve  corps  behind  us  are  all  the 
armies  of  heaven  and  earth,  with  hurricane  and  thunderbolt.  The  good  wori- 
of  the  world's  redemption  is  going  on  every  minute.  Never  so  many  splendid 
men  and  glorious  women  on  the  side  of  right  as  to-day.  Never  so  many  good 
people  as  now.  Diogenes  has  been  spoken  of  as  a  wise  man  because  he  went 
with  a  lantern  at  noonday,  saying  he  was  looking  for  an  honest  man.  If  he 
had  turned  his  lantern  toward  himself  he  might  have  discovered  a  crank. 
Honest  men  by  the  ten  thousand  !  Through  the  International  Series  of  Sunday- 
school  Lessons  the  next  generation  all  through  Christendom  are  going  to  be 
wiser  than  any  generation  since  the  world  stood.  The  kingdom  is  coming. 
God  can  do  it. 

THE   DIVISION   OF  HEAVEN. 

"  But,"  you  say,  "  that  is  pleasant  to  think  of  for  others,  but  before  that 
time  I  shall  have  passed  up  into  another  existence,  and  I  shall  get  no  advan- 
tage from  that  new  apportionment." 

Ah,  you  have  only  driven  me  to  the  other  more  exciting  and  transporting 
consideration,  and  that  is  that  Christ  is  going  to  divide  up  heaven  in  the  same 
way.  There  are  old  estates  in  the  celestial  world  that  have  been  in  the  pos- 
session of  its  inhabitants  for  thousands  of  years,  and  they  shall  remain  as  they 
are.  There  are  old  family  mansions  in  heaven  filled  with  whole  generations  of 
kindred,  and  they  shall  never  be  driven  out.  Many  of  the  victors  from  earth 
have  already  got  their  palaces,  and  they  are  pointed  out  to  those  newly  arrived. 
Soon  after  our  getting  there  we  will  ask  to  be  shown  the  apostolic  residences, 
and  ask  where  does  Paul  live,  and  John,  and  shown  the  patriarchal  residences 


56 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


and  shall  say :  "  Where 
does  Abraham  live,  or 
Jacob?"  and  shown  the 
martyr  residences  and 
say:  "Where  does  John 
Huss  live,  and  Ridley?" 
We  will  want  to  see  the 
boulevards  where  the 
chariots  of  conquerors 
roll.  I  will  want  to  see 
the  gardens  where  the 
princes  walk.  We  will 
want  to  see  Music  Row, 
hear  Handel,  and  Haydn, 
and  Mozart,  and  Charles 
Wesley,  and  Thomas 
Hastings,  and  Bradbury 
in  their  heavenly  homes, 
out  of  whose  windows, 
ever  and  anon,  are  rolling 
some  snatch  of  an  earthly 
oratorio  or  hymn  trans- 
ported with  the  composer. 
We  will  want  to  see  Re- 
vival Terrace,  where 
Whitefield,  and  Nettleton, 
and  Pay  son,  and  Rowland 
Hill,  and  Charles  Finney 
and  other  giants  of  soul- 
reaping  are  resting  from 
their  almost  supernatural 
labors,  all  their  doors 
thronged  with  converts 
just  arrived,  coming  to 
report  themselves. 

But  brilliant  as  the 
sunset,  and  like  the  leaves 
for  number,  are  the  celes- 
tial homes  yet  to  be 
awarded,  when  Christ  to 
you,  and  millions  of 
others,  shall  divide  the 
spoil.     What  do  you  want 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  57 

there  ?  You  shall  have  it.  An  orchard  ?  There  it  is  ;  twelve  manner  of  fruit, 
and  fruit  every  month.  Do  you  want  river  scenery?  Take  your  choice  on 
the  banks  of  the  river,  in  longer,  wider,  deeper  roll  than  Danube,  or  Amazon, 
or  Mississippi,  if  mingled  in  one,  and  emptying  into  the  sea  of  glass,  mingled 
with  fire.  Do  you  want  your  kindred  back  again  ?  Go  out  and  meet  your 
father  and  mother  without  the  staff  or  the  s1,oop,  and  your  children  in  a  dance 
of  immortal  glee.  Do  you  want  a  throne?  Select  it  from  the  million  of 
burnished  elevations.  Do  you  want  a  crown?  Pick  it  out  of  that  mountain 
of  diamonded  coronets.  Do  you  want  your  old  church  friends  of  earth  around 
you  ?  Begin  to  hum  an  old  revival  tune  and  they  will  flock  from  all  quarters 
to  revel  with  you  in  sacred  reminiscence.  All  the  earth  for  those  who  are  here 
on  earth  at  the  time  of  continental  and  planetary  distribution,  and  all  the 
heavens  for  those  who  are  there. 

AS  YE  SOW,   SO  SHALL  YE  REAP. 

That  heavenly  distribution  of  spoils  will  be  a  surprise  to  many.  Here 
enters  heaven  the  soul  of  a  man  who  took  up  a  great  deal  of  room  in  the 
Church  on  earth,  but  sacrificed  little,  and  among  his  good  works  selfishness 
was  evident.  He  just  crowds  through  the  shining  gate,  but  it  is  a  very  tight 
squeeze,  so  that  the  door-keeper  has  to  pull  hard  to  get  him  in,  and  this  man 
expects  half  of  heaven  for  his  share  of  trophies,  and  he  would  like  a  monopoly 
of  all  its  splendor,  and  to  purchase  lots  in  the  suburbs,  so  that  he  could  get 
advantages  from  the  growth  of  the  city.  Well,  he  had  a  little  grace  of  heart, 
just  enough  to  get  him  through,  and  to  him  is  given  a  second-hand  crown, 
which  one  of  the  saints  wore  at  the  start,  but  exchanged  for  a  brighter  one 
as  he  went  on  from  glory  to  glory.  And  he  is  put  in  an  old  house  once 
occupied  by  an  angel  who  was  hurled  out  of  heaven  at  the  time  of  Satan's 
rebellion. 

Right  after  him  comes  a  soul  that  makes  a  great  stir  among  the  celestials, 
and  the  angels  rush  to  the  scene,  each  bringing  to  her  a  dazzling  coronet. 
Who  is  she  ?  Over  what  realm  on  earth  was  she  queen  ?  In  what  great 
Dusseldorf  festival  was  she  the  cantatrice  ?  Neither.  She  was  an  invalid  who 
never  left  her  room  for  twenty  years ;  but  she  was  strong  in  prayer,  and  she 
prayed  down  revival  after  revival,  and  pentecost  after  pentecost,  upon  the 
churches,  and  with  her  pale  hands  she  knit  many  a  mitten  or  tippet  for  the 
poor,  and  with  her  contrivances  she  added  joy  to  many  a  holiday  festival ; 
and  now,  with  those  thin  hands  so  strong  for  kindness,  and  those  white  lips 
so  strong  for  supplication,  she  has  won  coronation,  and  enthronement,  and 
jubilee.  And  Christ  says  to  the  angels  who  have  brought  each  a  crown  to 
the  glorified  invalid : 

"  No,  not  these ;  they  are  not  good  enough.  But  in  the  jewelled  vase  at 
the  right-hand  side  of  My  throne  there  is  one  that  I  have  been  preparing  for 
her  many  a  year,  and  for  her  every  pang  I  have  set  an  amethyst,  and  for  her 


5» 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


S 


MICHAEL  HURLING  LUCIFER  OUT  OF   HEAVEN. 


every  good  deed  I  have  set  a 
pearl.  Fetch  it  now  and  fulfil 
the  promise  I  gave  her  long  ago 
in  the  sick-room :  '  Be  thou  faith- 
ful unto  death,  and  I  will  give 
thee  a  crown.'  " 

But  notice  that  there  is  only 
one  being  in  the  universe  who 
can  and  will  distribute  the  tro- 
phies of  earth  and  heaven.  It 
is  the  divine  warrior,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  centuries,, 
the  champion  of  the  ages,  the 
universal  conqueror,  the  Son  of 
God — Jesus.  Have  His  friend- 
ship, and  you  may  defy  alL 
time  and  all  eternity,  but  with- 
out it  you  were  a  pauper,  though 
you  had  a  universe  at  your 
command.  We  are  told  in  Reve- 
lation that  Jacob's  twelve  sons 
were  so  honored  as  to  have  the 
twelve  gates  of  heaven  named 
after  them — over  one  gate  of 
heaven  Naphtali,  over  another 
gate  of  heaven  Issachar,  over 
another  Dan,  over  another  Gadr 
over  another  Zebulun,  over 
another  Judah,  and  so  on.  But 
Christ's  name  is  written  over  all 
the  gates,  and  on  every  panel 
of  the  gates,  and  have  His  help, 
His  pardon,  His  intercession,  His 
atonement,  I  must,  or  be  a  forlorn 
wretch  forever.  My  Lord  and  my 
God!  make  me  and  all  to  whom 
these  words  shall  come  Thy  repen- 
tant, believing,  sworn,  consecrated 
and  ransomed  followers  forever. 

What  a  day  it  will  be!  All 
my  readers  would  rise  to  their 
feet  if  they  could  realize  it,  the 
day  in  which  Christ  shall,  in  fill- 


The  last  dream. — From  a  Monument  by  J.  Edwards. 


(59) 


60  THE   PATHWAY.  OF  LIFE. 

filment  of  my  text,  divide  the  spoil.  It  was  a  great  day,. when  Queen  Victoria, 
in  the  midst  of  the  Crimean  war,  distributed  medals  to  the  soldiers  who  had 
come  home  sick  and  wounded.  At  the  Horse  Guards,  in  the  presence  of  the 
royal  family,  the  injured  men  were  carried  in  or  came  on  crutches  and  with  her 
own  hand  the  Queen  gave  each  the  Crimean  medal.  And  what  triumphant  days 
for  those  soldiers  when,  further  on,  they  received  the  French  medal  with  the  Im- 
perial eagle,  and  the  Turkish  medal  with  its  representation  of  four  flags — France, 
Turkey,  England  and  Sardinia — and  beneath  it  a  map  of  the  Crimea  spread 
over  a  gun-wheel. 

THE    FINAL   REWARD. 

And  what  rewards  are  suggested  to  all  readers  of  history  by  the  mere 
mention  of  the  Waterloo  medal,  and  the  Cape  medal,  and  the  Gold-cross 
medal,  and  the  medal  struck  for  bravery  in  our  American  wars !  But  how 
insignificant  are  all  these  compared  with  the  day  when  the  good  soldiers  of 
Jesus  Christ  shall  come  in  out  of  the  battles  of  this  world,  and  in  the  pre- 
sence of  all  the  piled-up  glories  of  the  redeemed  and  unfallen,  Jesus,  our 
King,  shall  divide  the  spoil !  The  more  wounds  the  greater  the  inheritance. 
The  longer  the  forced  march  the  brighter  the  trophy.  The  more  terrific  the 
exhaustion  the  more  glorious  the  transport.  Not  the  gift  of  a  brilliant  ribbon, 
or  a  medal  of  brass,  or  silver,  or  gold,  but  a  kingdom  in  which  we  are  to 
reign  for  ever  and  ever.  Mansions  on  the  eternal  hills.  Dominions  of 
unfading  power.  Empires  of  unending  love.  Continents  of  everlasting  light. 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans  of  billowing  joy.  It  was  a  great  day  when  Aurelian, 
the  Roman  emperor,  came  back  from  his  victories.  In  the  front  of  the  pro- 
cession were  wild  beasts  from  all  lands,  1600  gladiators  richly  clad,  wagon- 
loads  of  crowns  presented  by  conquered  cities ;  among  the  captives,  Syrians, 
Egyptians,  Goths,  Vandals,  Sarmatians,  Franks ;  and  Zenobia,  the  beautiful 
captive  queen,  on  foot  in  chains  of  gold  that  a  slave  had  to  help  her  carry, 
and  jewels  under  the  weight  of  which  she  almost  fainted.  And  then  came 
the  chariot  of  Aurelian,  drawn  by  four  elephants  in  gorgeous  caparison  and 
followed  by  the  Roman  Senate  and  the  Roman  army,  and  from  dawn  till  dark 
the  procession  was  passing.  Rome  in  all  her  history  never  saw  anything 
more  magnificent.  But  how  much  greater  the  day  when  our  conqueror,  Jesus, 
shall  ride  under  the  triumphant  arches  of  heaven,  His  captives  not  on  foot 
but  in  chariots,  all  the  kingdoms  of  heaven  and  earth  in  procession,  the 
armies  celestial  on  white  horses,  rumbling  artillery  of  thunderbolts  never  again 
to  be  unlimbered,  kingdoms  in  line,  centuries  in  line,  saintly,  cherubic, 
seraphic,  archangelic  splendors  in  line,  and  Christ,  seated  on  one  great  rolling 
hosanna,  made  out  of  all  hallelujahs  of  all  worlds,  shall  cry  "Halt"  to  the 
procession.  And  not  forgetting  even  the  humblest  in  all  the  reach  of  His 
omnipresence,  He  shall  rise  and  then  and  there,  His  work  done  and  His 
glory  consummated,  proceed,  amid  an  ecstasy  such  as  neither  mortal  nor 
immortal  ever  imagined,  to  divide  the  spoil. 


Stoeet  OTontent. 

HOW  TO   ATTAIN   TRUE   HAPPINESS. 

I^F,  in  midsummer,  I  should  ask  some  one,  where  are  the 
people  of  New  York,  Brooklyn,  Boston  or  Philadelphia,  the 
answer  would  be:  At  Brighton  Beach,  East  Hampton, 
Shelter  Island,  Long  Branch,  Cape  May,  Sulphur  Springs 
or  Europe.  But  while  many  are  at  the  pleasure  resorts  the 
larger  number  are  at  home,  detained  by  business  or  circum- 
stances. 

But  the  genuine  American  is  not  happy  unless  he  is 
going  somewhere,  and  the  passion  is  so  great  that  there  are 
Christian  people  with  their  families  detained  in  the  city  who  come  ' 
not  to  the  house  of  God,  trying  to  give  people  the  idea  that  they 
are  out  of  town;  leaving  the  door-plate  unscoured  for  the  same 
reason,  and  for  two  months  keeping  the  front  shutters  closed  while 
they  sit  in  the  back  part  of  the  house,  the  thermometer  at  ninety  I 
My  friends,  if  it  is  best  for  us  to  go,  let  us  go  and  be  happy.  If 
it  is  best  for  us  to  stay  at  home,  let  us  stay  at  home  and  be  happy. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  good  common  sense  in  Paul's  advice  to 
the  Hebrews:  "Be  content  with  such  things  as  ye  have."  To  be 
content  is  to  be  in  good  humor  with  our  circumstances,  not  picking 
a  quarrel  with  our  obscurity,  or  our  poverty,  or  our  social  position. 
There  are  four  or  five  grand  reasons  why  we  should  be  content 
with  such  things  as  we  have. 
We  make  a  great  ado  about  our-hardships,  but  how  little  we  talk  of  our 
blessings.  Health  of  body,  which  is  given  in  largest  quantity  to  those  who 
have  never  been  petted,  and  fondled,  and  spoiled  by  fortune,  we  take  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Rather  have  this  luxury  and  have  it  alone,  than,  without  it, 
look  out  of  a  palace  window  upon  parks  of  deer  stalking  between  fountains 
and  statuary.  These  people  sleep  sounder  on  a  straw  mattress  than  fashionable 
invalids  on  a  couch  of  ivory  and  eagle's  down.  The  dinner  of  herbs  tastes 
better  to  the  appetite  sharpened  on  a  woodman's  axe  or  a  reaper's  scythe  than 
wealthy  indigestion  experiences  seated  at  a  table  covered  with  partridge,  and 
venison,  and  pineapple. 

The  grandest  luxury  God  ever  gave  a  man  is  health.  He  who  trades 
that  off  for  all  the  palaces  of  the  earth  is  infinitely  cheated.  We  look  back  at 
the  glory  of  the  last  Napoleon,  but  who  would  have  taken  his  Versailles  and 
his  Tuileries  if  with  them  we  had  been  obliged  to  take  his  gout?     "Oh,"  says 

(61) 


62 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


some  one,  "it  isn't  the  grosser  pleasures  I  covet,  but  it  is  the  gratification 
of  an  artistic  and  intellectual  taste."  Why,  my  brother,  you  have  the  original 
from  which  these  pictures  are  copied. 

THE   ORIGINAL   AND    THE    COPY. 

What  is  a  sunset  on  a  wall  compared  with  a  sunset  hung  in  loops  of  fire 
in  the  heavens  ?  What  is  a  cascade  silent  on  a  canvas  compared  with  a  cascade 
t]iat  makes  the  mountain  tremble,  its    spray  ascending  like  the  departed  spirit 


THE    HUMBLE    FARE    EATEN   IN"   SWEET   CONTENT. 


•of  the  water  slain  on  the  rocks?  Oh,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  hollow  affectation 
about  a  fondness  for  pictures  on  the  part  of  those  who  never  appreciate  the 
original  from  which  the  pictures  are  taken.  As  though  a  parent  should  have 
no  regard  for  a  child,  but  go  into  ecstasies  over  its  photograph.  Bless  the 
Lord  to-day,  O  man!  O  woman!  that  though  you  may  be  shut  out  from  the 
•works  of  a  Church,  a  Bierstadt,  a   Rubens  and  a  Raphael,  you  still  have  free 


THE   PATHWAY  OF   LIFE. 


63 


access  to  a  gallery  grander  than  the  Louvre  or  the  Luxemburg  or  the  Vatican — 
the  royal  gallery  of  the  noonday  heavens,  the  King's  gallery  of  the  mid- 
night sky. 

Yon  see  people  happy 
and  miserable  amid  all 
circumstances.  In  a  fam- 
ily where  the  last  loaf  is 
on  the  table,  and  the  last 
stick  of  wood  on  the  fire, 
you  sometimes  find  a 
■cheerful  confidence  in 
God,  while  in  a  very  fine 
place  you  will  see  and 
hear  discord  sounding  the 
war-whoop,  and  hospital- 
ity freezing  to  death  in 
the  cheerless  parlor.  I 
stopped  one  day  on  Broad- 
way at  the  head  of  Wail 
street,  at  the  foot  of  Trin- 
ity Church,  to  see  who 
seemed  the  happiest 
people  passing.  I  judged 
from  their  looks  the  hap- 
piest people  were  not 
those  who  went  down  in- 
to Wall  street,  for  they 
had  on  their  brow  the 
anxiety  of  the  dollar  they 
expected  to  make ;  nor 
the  people  who  came  out 
■of  Wall  street,  for  they 
had  on  their  brow  the 
anxiety  of  the  dollar  they 
had  lost;  nor  the  people 
who  swept  by  in  splen- 
did equipage,  for  they 
met  a  carriage  finer  than 
theirc.  The  happiest  per- 
son in  all  that  crowd,  judging  from  the  countenance,  was  the  woman  who  sat 
at  the  apple-stand  knitting.  X  believe  real  happiness  oftener  looks  out  of  the 
window  of  an  humble  home  than  through  the  opera-glass  in  the  gilded  box 
of  a  theatre. 


A    PORTION   OF  THE   CEILING   OF  THE  SIXTINE   CHAPEL. 


I 


* 


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I 
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(64) 


THE  WORLDS    SORROWS    LAID   ATJESUS    FEET 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  65 

I  find  Nero  growling  on  a  throne.  I  find  Paul  singing  in  a  dungeon. 
I  find  King  Ahab  going  to  bed  at  noon  through  melancholy,  while  near  by  is 
Naboth  contented  in  the  possession  of  a  vineyard.  Haman,  Prime  Minister 
of  Persia,  frets  himself  almost  to  death  because  a  poor  Jew  will  not  tip  his 
hat;  and  Ahithophel,  one  of  the  greatest  lawyers  of  Bible  times,  through  fear, 
of  dying,  hangs  himself.  The  wealthiest  man,  forty  years  ago,  in  New  York, 
when  congratulated  over  his  large  estate,  replied:  "Ah!  you  don't  know  how 
much  trouble  I  have  in  taking  care  of  it."  Byron  declared  in  his  last  hours 
that  he  had  never  seen  more  than  twelve  happy  days  in  all  his  life.  I  do  not 
believe  he  had  seen  twelve  minutes  of  thorough  satisfaction.  Napoleon  I.  said: 
"  I  turn  with  disgust  from  the  cowardice  and  selfishness  of  man.  I  hold  life 
a  horror ;  death  is  repose.  What  I  have  suffered  the  last  twenty  days  is  beyond 
human  comprehension." 

While,  on  the  other  hand,  to  show  how  one  may  be  happy  amid  the 
most  disadvantageous  circumstances,  just  after  the  Ocean  Monarch  had  been 
wrecked  in  the  English  Channel,  a  steamer  was  cruising  along  in  the  dark- 
ness, when  the  captain  heard  a  song,  a  sweet  song,  coining  over  the  water, 
and  he  bore  down  towards  that  voice,  and  found  it  was  a  Christian  woman  on 
a  plank  of  the  wrecked  steamer,  singing  to  the  tune  of  "  St.  Martin's." 

"Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  billows  near  me  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high." 

The  heart  right  toward  God  and  man,  we  are  happy.  The  heart  wrong 
toward  God  and  man,  we  are  unhappy. 

Another  reason  why  we  should  be  filled  with  the  spirit  of  content  is  the 
fact  that  all  the  differences  of  earthly  condition  are  transitory.  The  houses 
you  build,  the  land  you  cultivate,  the  places  in  which  you  barter,  are  soon  to 
go  into  other  hands.  However  hard  you  may  have  it  now,  if  you  are  a  Chris- 
tian the  scene  will  soon  end.  Pain,  trial,  persecution  will  never  knock  at  the 
door  of  the  grave.  A  coffin  made  out  of  pine  boards  is  just  as  good  a  resting- 
place  as  one  made  out  of  silver-mounted  mahogany  or  rosewood, 

WHERE  AMBITION   SLEEPS. 

Go  down  among  the  resting-places  of  the  dead,  and  you  will  find  that 
though  people  there  had  a  great  difference  of  worldly  circumstances,  now  they 
are  all  alike  unconscious.  The  hand  that  greeted  the  senator,  and  the  presi- 
dent, and  the  king,  is  still  as  the  hand  that  hardened  on  the  mechanic's  ham- 
mer or  the  manufacturer's  wheel.  It  does  not  make  any  difference  now 
whether  there  is  a  plain  stone  above  them  from  which  the  traveller  pulls  aside 
the  weeds  to  read  the  name,  or  a  tall  shaft  springing  into  the  heavens  as 
though  to  tell  their  virtues  to  the  skies. 
5 


66 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


In  that  silent  land  there  are  no  titles  for  great  men,  and  there  are  no 
rumblings  of  chariot  wheels,  and  there  is  never  heard  the  foot  of  the  dance. 
The  Egyptian  guano  which  is  thrown  on  the  fields  in  the  East  for  the  enrich- 
ment of  the  soil  is  the  dust  raked  out  from  the  sepulchres  of  kings  and 
lords  and  mighty  men.  Oh,  the  chagrin  of  those  men  if  they  had  ever 
known  that  in  the  after-ages  of  the  world  they  would 
Egyptian  guano. 


have    been    called 


DEATH  OP  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,    160I. 
(So  passes  the  greatness  ot  this  world). 

but 


about    everything    else,    but    agreeing   m 
passeth  away." 

But  have  all  these   dignitaries    gone  ? 
have    been    in    assemblages    where    I    have 


this 


much    worth  now 
of  Caesar?     Who 
Who    cares    now 
the    Amphic- 
or    the  laws  of 


Of  how 
is  the  crown 
bids  for  it  ? 
anything  about 
tyonic  council 
Lycurgus  ?  Who  trembles  now 
because  Xerxes  crossed  the 
Hellespont  on  abridge  of  boats? 
Who  fears  because  Nebuchad- 
nezzar thunders  at  the  gates  of 
Jerusalem  ?  Who  cares  now 
whether  or  not  Cleopatra  mar- 
ries Antony  ?  Who  crouches 
before  Ferdinand,  or  Boniface, 
or  Alaric?  Can  Cromwell  dis- 
solve the  English  Parliament 
now?  Is  William,  Prince  of 
Orange,  King  of  the  Nether- 
lands? No,  no!  However 
much  Elizabeth  may  love  the 
Russian  crown,  she  must  pass 
it  to  Peter,  and  Peter  to  Catha- 
rine, and  Catharine  to  Paul, 
and  Paul  to  Alexander,  and 
Alexander  to  Nicholas.  Leo- 
pold puts  the  German  sceptre 
into  the  hand  of  Joseph,  and 
Philip  comes  down  off  the  Span- 
ish throne  to  let  Ferdinand  go 
on.  House  of  Aragon,  house 
of  Hapsburg,  house  of  Stuart, 
house  of  Bourbon,  quarrelling 
"The    fashion    of    this    world 


Can    they  not    be    called    back?     I 
heard    the    roll    called,    and    many 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


67 


distinguished  men  have  answered.  If  I  should  call  the  roll  to-day  of  some  of 
those  mighty  ones  who  have  gone  I  wonder  if  they  would  not  answer  ?  I 
will  call  the  roll.  I  will  call  the  roll  of  the  kings  first :  Alfred  the  Great ! 
William  the  Conqueror!  Frederick  II.!  Louis  XVI.!  No  answer.  I  will 
call  the  roll  of  the  poets.  Robert  Southey !  Thomas  Campbell !  John  Keats  l" 
George  Crabbe !  Robert  Burns !  No  answer.  I  will  call  the  roll  of  artists : 
Michael  Angelo  !  Paul  Veronese  !  William  Turner !  Christopher  Wren  !  No 
answer.  Eyes  closed.  Ears  deaf.  Lips  silent.  Hands  palsied.  Sceptre,  pen- 
cil, pen,  sword,  put  down  forever.     Why  should  we  struggle  for  such  baubles? 


PRINCIPAL    WORKS    OF    CHRISTOPHER    WREN,    WITH    ST.    PAUL'S  CATHEDRAL   RISING   FROM  THE   BACKGROUND. 

(From  the  Painting  by  C.  JR.  Cockerell.) 

If  your  path  had  been  smooth,  you  would  have  depended  upon  your  own 
surefootedness ;  but  God  roughened  that  path,  so  you  have  to  take  hold  of 
His  hand.  If  the  weather  had  been  mild,  you  would  have  loitered  along  the 
water-courses,  but  at  the  first  howl  of  the  storm  you  quickened  your  pace 
heavenward  and  wrapped  around  you  the  warm  robe  of  a  Saviour's  righteous- 
ness. "  What  have  I  done  ?"  says  the  wheat-sheaf  to  the  farmer.  "  What  have 
I  done  that  you  beat  me  so  hard  with  your  flail?"  The  farmer  makes  no 
answer,  but  the  rake  takes  off  the  straw,  and   the  mill   blows  the  chaff  to  tpe 


68 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


wind,  and  the  golden 
grain  falls  down  at  the 
foot  of  the  windmill. 
After  a  while,  the 
straw,  looking  down 
from  the  mow  npon  the 
golden  grain  banked 
up  on  either  side  the 
floor,  understands  why 
the  farmer  beats  the 
wheat-sheaf  with  the 
flail. 

Who  are  those  be- 
fore the  throne  ?     The 
answer  came  :    "  These 
are  they  which    came 
out   of    great    tribula- 
tion, and  have  washed 
their  robes   and   made 
them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb."     Would 
to  God  that  we   could 
understand   that   our 
trials  are  the  very  best 
thing    for    us.     If  we 
had  an  appreciation  of 
that   truth,   then    we 
should    know    why   it 
was  that  John  Noyra, 
the  martyr,  in  the  very 
midst   of  the   fla_.  2, 
reached    down    and 
picked  up    one   of  the 
fagots    that   was    con- 
suming him,  and  kissed 
it,  and  said:    "  Blessed 
be   God    for   the   time 
when  I  was   bom    for 
this     perferment." 
They  who   suffer  with 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  69 

Him    on   earth    shall    be    glorified   with    Him    in   heaven.      Be   content,  then, 
with    such  things  as   you   have. 

THE  REST  THAT  SHALL  BE  OURS. 

But  notwithstanding  all  the  promises  and  inducements  to  a  spirit  of  con- 
tentment the  human  race  is  divided  into  two  classes — these  who  scold  and 
those  who  get  scolded.  The  carpenter  wants  to  be  anything  but  a  car- 
penter, and  the  mason  anything  but  a  mason,  and  the  banker  anything 
but  a  banker,  and  the  lawyer  anything  but  a  lawyer,  and  the  minister  any- 
thing but  a  minister,  and  everybody  would  be  happy  if  he  were  only  some- 
body else.  The  anemone  wants  to  be  a  sunflower,  and  the  apple  orchards 
throw  down  their  blossoms  because  they  are  not  tall  cedars,  and  the  scow 
wants  to  be  a  schooner,  and  the  sloop  would  like  to  be  a  seventy-four  pounder, 
and  parents  have  the  worst  children  that  ever  were,  and  everybody  has  the 
greatest  misfortune,  and  everything  is  upside  down,  or  going  to  be.  Ah !  my 
readers,  you  never  make  any  advance  through  such  a  spirit  as  that.  You  can- 
not fret  yourself  up;  you  may  fret  yourself  down.  Amid  all  this  grating  of 
tones  I  strike  this  string  of  the  gospel  harp :  "  Godliness  with  contentment  is 
great  gain.  We  brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we  can 
carry  nothing  out;    and  having  food  and  raiment,  let  us  be  therewith  content." 

Let  us  all  remember,  if  we  are  Christians  that  we  are  going  after  a  while, 
whatever  be  our  circumstances  now,  to  have  a  glorious  vacation.  As  in  sum- 
mer we  put  off  our  garments  and  go  down  into  the  cool  sea  to  bathe,  so  we 
will  put  off  these  garments  of  flesh,  and  step  into  the  cool  Jordan.  We  will 
look  around  for  some  place  to  lay  down  our  weariness ;  and  the  trees  will 
say:  "Come  and  rest  under  our  shadow;"  and  the  earth  will  say:  "Come 
and  sleep  in  my  bosom ; "  and  the  winds  will  say :  "  Hush !  while  I*  sing  thee 
a  cradle  hymn;"  and  while  six  strong  men  carry  us  out  to  our  last  resting- 
place,  and  ashes  come  to  ashes  and  dust  to  dust,  we  will  see  two  scarred  feet 
standing  amid  the  broken  soil,  and  a  lacerated  brow  bending  over  the  open 
grave,  while  a  voice,  tender  with  all  affection  and  mighty  with  all  omnipotence, 
will  declare:  "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life;  he  that  believeth  in  Me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  Comfort  one  another  with  these 
words. 


3Eo  ¥oung  Cornell. 


HOW  TO  FIGHT  THE  BATTLE  OF  LIFE  ALONE. 

• 

OMAN  is  a  mere  adjunct  to  man,  an  appendix  to  the 
masculine  volume,  an  appendage,  a  sort  of  after- 
thought, something  thrown  in  to  make  things  even 
— that  is  the  heresy  entertained  and  implied  by  some 
men.  This  is  evident  to  them :  Woman's  insignificance 
as  compared  to  man  is  evident  to  them,,  because  Adam 
was  first  created  and  then  Eve.  They  don't  read  the 
whole  story  or  they  would  find  that  the  porpoise  and  the 
bear  and  the  hawk  were  created  before  Adam,  so  that 
the  argument  drawn  from  priority  of  creation  might  prove 
that  the  sheep  and  the  dog  were  greater  than  man.  No; 
woman  was  an  independent  creation,  and  was  intended,  if  she 
chose,  to  live  alone,  to  walk  alone,  act  alone,  think  alone, 
and  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone.  The  Bible  says  it  is  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone,  but  never  says  it  is  not  good  for 
woman  to  be  alone,  and  the  simple  fact  is  that  many  women 
who  are  harnessed  for  life  in  the  marriage  relation  would  be 
a  thousand-fold  better  off  if  they  were  alone.  God  makes  no 
mistake,  and  the  fact  that  there  is  such  a  large  majority 
of  women  in  this  land  proves  that  He  intended  that  multi- 
tudes of  them  should  go  alone. 
Who  are  these  men  who  year  after  year  hang  around  hotels  and  engine- 
houses  and  theatre  doors,  and  come  in  and  out  to  bother  busy  clerks  and 
merchants  and  mechanics,  doing  nothing  even  when  there  is  plenty  to  do? 
They  are  men  supported  by  their  wives  and  mothers.  If  the  statistics  of  any 
of  our  cities  could  be  taken  on  this  subject  you  would  find  that  a  vast 
multitude  of  women  not  only  support  themselves,  but  masculines  also.  A 
great  legion  of  men  amount  to  nothing,  and  a  woman  by  marriage  manacled 
to  one  of  these  nonentities  needs  condolence.  A  woman  standing  outside  the 
marriage  relation  is  several  hundred  thousand  times  better  off  than  a  woman 
badly  married.  Many  a  bride,  instead  of  a  wreath  of  orange  blossoms,  might 
more  properly  wear  a  bunch  of  nettles  and  night-shade,  and  instead  of  the 
wedding  march  a  more  appropriate  tune  would  be  the  Dead  March  in  Saul, 
and    instead    of  a    banquet    of   confectionery    and    ices    there    might    be    more 

(70) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


7i 


appropriately  spread  a  table   covered   with   apples  of  Sodom,  which  are  outside 
fair  and  inside  ashes. 

Many  an  attractive  woman  of 
good,  sound  sense  in  other  things, 
has  married  one  of  these  men  to 
reform  him.  What  was  the  result  ? 
Like  when  a  dove,  noticing  that  a 
vulture  was  rapacious  and  cruel, 
set  about  to  reform  it,  and  said : 
"I  have  a  mild  disposition  and  I 
like  peace,  and  was  brought  wp  in 
the  quiet  of  a  dove-cote,  and  I  will 
bring  the  vulture  to  the  same  liking 
by  marrying  him."  So  one  day, 
after  the  vulture  had  declared  he 
would  give  up  his  carnivorous 
habits  and  cease   longing   for  blood 


Mp 


THE  VAGABOND  IN  THE  STREET. 

of  flock  and  herd,  at  an  altar  of 
rock  covered  with  moss  and  lichen, 
the  twain  were  married,  a  bald- 
headed  eagle  officiating,  the  vulture 
saying :  "  With  all  my  dominion 
of  earth  and  sky  I  thee  endow, 
and  promise  to  love  and  cherish 
till  death  do  us  part."  But  one 
day  in  her  flight  the  dove  saw  the 
vulture  busy  at  a  carcass,  and 
cried:  "Stop  that!  did  you  not 
promise  me  that  you  would  quit 
your  carnivorous  and  filthy  habits 
if  I  married  you?"  "Yes,"  said 
the  vulture,  "  but  if  you  don't  like 
my  way  you  can  leave,"  and  with  one  angry  stroke  of  beak  and  another 
fierce  clutch  of  claw  the   vulture  left  the  dove   eyeless,  and  wingless,  and  life- 


If 


THE  VAGABOND   IN  THE  DRAWING  ROOM. 


72  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

less.  And  a  flock  of  robins  flying  past  cried  to  each  other  and  said :  "  See 
there !  that   comes    from    a  dove's    marrying    a    vulture    to    reform    him." 

Many  a  woman  who  has  had  the  hand  of  a  young  inebriate  offered,  but 
declined  it,  or  who  was  asked  to  chain  her  life  to  a  man  selfish  or  of  bad 
temper,  and  refused  the  shackles,  will  bless  God  throughout  all  eternity  that 
she  escaped  that  earthly  pandemonium. 

Besides  all  this,  in  our  country  about  1,000,000  men  were  sacrificed  in  our 
Civil  War,  and  that  decreed  1,000,000  women  to  celibacy.  Besides  that,  since 
the  war,  several  armies  of  men  as  large  as  the  Federal  and  Confederate  armies 
put  together  have  fallen  under  malt  liquors  and  distilled  spirits  so  full  of 
poisoned  ingredients  that  the  work  was  done  more  rapidly,  and  the  victims 
fell  while  yet  young.  And  if  50,000  men  are  destroyed  every  year  by  strong 
drink  before  marriage,  that  makes,  in  the  twenty-three  years  since  the  war, 
1,150,000  men  slain,  and  decrees  1,150,000  women  to  celibacy.  Take  then  the 
fact  that  so  many  women  are  unhappy  in  their  marriage,  and  the  fact  that 
the  slaughter  of  2,150,000  men  by  war  and  rum  combined,  decides  that  at 
least  that  number  of  women  shall  be  unaffianced  for  life. 

In  addressing  these  women  who  will  have  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone, 
I  congratulate  you  on  your  happy  escape.  Rejoice  forever  that  you  will  not 
have  to  navigate  the  faults  of  the  other  sex,  when  you  have  faults  enough  of 
your  own.  Think  of  the  bereavements  you  avoid,  of  the  risk  of  unassimilated 
temper  which  you  will  not  have  to  run,  of  the  cares  you  will  never  have  to 
carry,  and  of  the  opportunity  of  outside  usefulness  from  which  marital  life 
would  have  partially  debarred  you,  and  that  you  are  free  to  go  and  come  as 
one  who  has  the  responsibilities  of  a  household  can  seldom  be.  God  has  not 
given  you  a  hard  lot  as  compared  with  your  sisters.  When  young  women 
shall  make  up  their  minds  at  the  start  that  masculine  companionship  is  not  a 
necessity  in  order  to  happiness,  and  that  there  is  a  strong  probability  that 
they  will  have  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone,  they  will  be  getting  the  timber 
ready  for  their  own  fortunes  and  their  saw  and  axe  and  plane  sharpened  for 
its  construction,  since  "  every  wise  woman  buildeth  her  house." 

SHOULD   LEARN   TO   SUPPORT   THEMSELVES. 

As  no  boy  ought  to  be  brought  up  without  learning  some  business  at 
which  he  could  earn  a  livelihood,  so  no  girl  ought  to  be  brought  up  without 
learning  the  science  of  self-support.  The  difficulty  is  that  many  a  family 
goes  sailing  on  the  high  tides  of  success,  and  the  husband  and  father 
depends  on  his  own  health  and  acumen  for  the  welfare  of  his  household ;  but 
one  day  he  gets  his  feet  wet,  and  in  three  days  pneumonia  has  closed  his 
life,  and  the  daughters  are  turned  out  on  a  cold  world  to  earn  bread,  and  there 
is  nothing  practical  that  they  can  do.  The  friends  of  the  family  come  in  and 
hold  consultation. 

"  Give  music  lessons,"  says  an  outsider.     "  Yes,  that  is    a    useful  calling, 


(73) 


74  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

and  if  you  have  great  genius  for  it  go  on  in  that  direction.  But  there  are 
enough  music  teachers  now  starving  to  death  in  all  our  towns  and  cities  to 
occupy  all  the  piano  stools  and  sofas  and  chairs  and  front  door-steps  of  the  city. 
Besides  that,  the  daughter  has  been  playing  only  for  amusement,  and  is  only 
at  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  to  the  top  of  which  a  great  multitude  of  masters  on 
piano  and  harp  and  flute  and  organ  have  climbed. 

"  Put  the  bereft  daughters  as  saleswomen  in  stores,"  says  another  adviser. 
But  there  they  must  compete  with  salesmen  of  long  experience,  or  with  men 
who  have  served  an  apprenticeship  in  commerce,  and  who  began  as  shop  boys 
at  ten  years  of  age.  Some  kind-hearted  dry-goods  man  having  known  the 
father,  now  gone,  says:  "We  are  not  in  need  of  any  more  help  just  now, 
but  send  your  daughters  to  my  store,  and  I  will  do  as  well  by  them  as  pos- 
sible." Very  soon  the  question  comes  up  :  "  Why  do  not  the  female  employes 
get  as  much  wages  as  the  male  employes  ?"  For  the  simple  reason  in  many 
cases  the  females  were  suddenly  flung  by  misfortune  behind  that  counter,  while 
the  males  have  from  the  day  they  left  the  public  school  been  learning  the 
business. 

How  is  this  evil  to  be  cured  ?  Start  clear  back  in  the  homestead  and  teach 
your  daughters  that  life  is  an  earnest  thing,  and  that  there  is  a  possibility, 
if  not  a  strong  probability,  that  they  will  have  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone. 
Let  every  father  and  mother  say  to  their  daughters  :  "  Now,  what  would  you 
do  for  a  livelihood  if  what  I  now  own  were  swept  away  by  financial  disaster, 
or  old  age  or  death   should  suddenly  end  my  career?" 

"Well,  I  could  paint  on  pottery  and  do  such  decorative  work."  Yes,  that 
is  beautiful,  and  if  you  have  genius  for  it  go  on  in  that  direction.  But  many 
others  before  you  found  the  same  occupation  so  pleasant  that  now  it,  too,  is 
overdone. 

"  Well,  I  could  make  recitations  in  public  and  earn  my  living  as  a  drama- 
tist. I  could  render  King  Lear  or  Macbeth  till  your  hair  would  rise  on  end, 
or  give  you  '  Sheridan's  Ride  '  or  Dickens's  '  Pickwick.'  "  Yes,  that  is  a  beau- 
tiful art,  but  ever  and  anon,  as  now,  there  is  an  epidemic  of  dramatization 
that  makes  hundreds  of  households  nervous  with  the  cries  and  shrieks  and 
groans  of  young  tragedians  dying  in  the  fifth  act,  and  the  trouble  is  that  while 
your  friends  would  like  to  hear  you,  and  really  think  that  you  could  surpass 
Ristori  and  Charlotte  Cushman  and  Fanny  Kemble  of  the  past,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  present,  you  could  not,  in  the  way  of  living,  in  ten  years  earn  ten  cents. 

My  advice  to  all  girls  and  all  unmarried  women,  whether  in  affluent  homes 
or  in  homes  where  most  astringent  economies  are  grinding,  is  to  learn  to  do 
some  kind  of  work  that  the  world  must  have  while  the  world  stands.  I  am 
glad  to  see  a  marvellous  change  for  the  better,  and  that  women  have  found 
out  that  there  are  hundreds  of  practical  things  that  a  woman  can  do  for  a 
living  if  she  begin  soon  enough,  and  that  men  have  been  compelled  to  admit 
it.     You  and  I    can  remember  when  the  majority  of  occupations  were  thought 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


75 


following,  into 
she  will  enter : 


inappropriate  for  women,  but  our  Civil  War  came  and  the  hosts  of  men  went 
forth  from  North  and  South,  and  to  conduct  the  business  of  our  cities  during 
the  patriotic  absence,  women  were  demanded  by  the  tens  of  thousands  to  take 
the  vacant  places,  and  multitudes  of  women  who  had  been  hitherto  supported 
by  fathers  and  brothers  and  sons,  were  compelled  thenceforth  to  take  care  ■ 
of  themselves.  From  that  time  a  mighty  change  took  place,  favorable  to  female 
employment. 

APPROPRIATE  OCCUPATIONS. 

Among  the  occupations  appropriate  for  women  I  place  the 
many  of  which  she  has  already  entered,  and  all  the  others 
Stenography,  and  you  may 
find  her  at  nearly  all  the  re- 
portorial  stands  in  our  educa- 
tional, political  and  religious 
meetings.  Savings  banks, 
the  work  clean  and  honor- 
able, and  who  so  great  a 
right  to  toil  there  ?  for  a 
woman  founded  the  first  sav- 
ings bank,  Mrs.  Priscilla 
Wakefield.  Copyists,  and 
there  is  hardly  a  professional 
man  that  does  not  need  the 
service  of  her  penmanship, 
and,  as  amanuensis,  many  of 
the  greatest  books  of  our  day 
have  been  dictated  for  her 
writing.  There  they  are  as 
florists  and  confectioners,  and 
music  teachers  and  station- 
ers and  book-keepers,  for  which  they  are  specially  qualified  by 
patience  and  accuracy  ;  and  in  wood  engraving,  in  which  the 
Cooper  Institute  has  turned  out  so  many  qualified  ;  and  telegra- 
phy, for  which  she  is  specially  prepared,  as  thousands  of  the 
telegraphic  offices  would  testify.  Photography,  and  in  nearly 
all  our  establishments  they  may  be  found  there  at  cheerful 
work.  As  workers  in  ivory  and  gutta-percha  and  gum-elastic  and  tortoise- 
shell  and  gilding  and  in  chemicals,  in  porcelain,  in  terra  cotta,  in  embroidery. 
As  postmistresses,  and  the  President  is  giving  them  appointments  all  over  the 
land.  As  keepers  of  light-houses,  many  of  them,  if  they  had  the  chance,  read}' 
to  do  as  brave  a  thing  with  oar  and  boat  as  did  Ida  Lewis  and  Grace  Darling.  As 
proof  readers,  as  translators,  as  modellers,  as  designers,  as  draught-women,  as 
lithographers,  as  teachers  in  schools  and  seminaries,  for  which  they  are  specially 


MILTON  DICTATING   "PARADISE  LOST"   TO  HIS 

daughters. — By  W.  Harvey. 


76  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

endowed,  the  first  teacher  of  every  child,  by  divine  arrangement,  being  a  woman. 
As  physicians,  having  graduated  after  a  regular  course  of  study  from  the  female 
colleges  of  our  large  cities,  where  they  get  as  scientific  and  thorough,  preparation 
as  any  doctors  ever  had,  and  go  forth  to  a  work  which  no  one  but  women  could  so 
appropriately  or  delicately  do.  On  the  lecturing  platform,  for  you  know  the  brill- 
iant success  of  Mrs.  Livermore  and  Mrs.  Hollowell  and  Mrs.  Willard  and  Mrs. 
Lathrop.  As  physiological  lecturers  to  their  own  sex,  for  which  service  there 
is  a  demand  appalling  and  terrific.  As  preachers  of  the  gospel,  and  all  the 
protests  of  ecclesiastical  courts  cannot  hinder  them,  for  they  have  a  pathos  and 
a  power  in  their  religious  utterances  that  men  can  never  reach.  Witness  all 
those  who  have  heard  their  mother  pray. 

O  young  women  of  America,  as  many  of  you  will  have  to  fight  your  own 
battles  alone,  do  not  wait  until  you  are  flung  by  disaster  upon  the  world ;  until 
your  father  is  dead,  and  all  the  resources  of  your  family  have  been  scattered, 
but  now,  while  in  good  house  and  environed  by  all  prosperities,  learn  how  to 
do  some  kind  of  work  that  the  world  must  have  as  long  as  the  world  stands. 
Turn  your  attention  from  the  embroidery  of  fine  slippers,  of  which  there  is  a 
surplus,  and  make  a  useful  shoe.  Expend  the  time  in  which  you  adorn  a  cigar 
case  in  learning  how  to  make  a  good,  honest  loaf  of  bread.  Turn  your  atten- 
tion from  the  making  of  flimsy  nothings  to  the  manufacturing  of  important 
somethings. 

Much  of  the  time  spent  in  young  ladies'  seminaries  in  studying  what  are 
called  the  "higher  branches,"  might  better  be  expended  in  teaching  them  some- 
thing by  which  they  could  support  themselves.  If  you  are  going  to  be  teachers, 
or  if  you  have  so  much  assured  wealth  that  you  can  always  dwell  in  those 
high  regions,  trigonometry,  of  course,  metaphysics,  of  course,  Latin  and  Greek 
and  German  and  French  and  Italian,  of  course,  and  a  hundred  other  things, 
of  course,  but  if  you  are  not  expecting  to  teach,  and  your  wealth  is  not  estab- 
lished beyond  misfortune,  after  you  have  learned  the  ordinary  branches,  take 
hold  of  that  kind  of  study  that  will  pay  in  dollars  and  cents  in  case  you  are 
thrown  on  your  own  resources.  Learn  to  do  something  better  than  anybody 
else.  Buy  Virginia  Penny's  book  entitled  "  The  Employments  of  Women,"  and 
learn  there  are  500  ways  in  which  a  woman  may  earn  a  living. 

ROMANTIC   IDEAS. 

"  No,  no !"  says  some  young  woman ;  "  I  will  not  undertake  anything  so 
unromantic  and  commonplace  as  that."  An  excellent  author  writes  that  after 
he  had,  in  a  book,  argued  for  efficiency  in  womanly  work  in  order  to  success, 
and  positive  apprenticeship  by  way  of  preparation,  a  prominent  chemist  adver- 
tised that  he  would  teach  a  class  of  women  to  become  druggists  and  apothe- 
caries if  they  would  go  through  an  apprenticeship  as  men  do ;  and  a  printer 
advertised  that  he  would  take  a  class  of  women  to  learn  the  printer's  trade  if 
they  would  go  through    an  apprenticeship  as  men  do;    and  how  many,  accord- 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


77 


ing  to  the  account  of  the  authoress,  do  you  suppose  applied  to  become  skilled 
iu  the  druggist  business  and  printing  business  ?  Not  one  !  One  young  woman 
said  she  would  be  willing  to  try  the  printing  business  for  six  months,  but  by 
that  time  her  older    sister  would  be  married,  and  then  her  mother  would  want 


a  romantic  girl.— From  a  Painting  by  G.  Couriois. 


her   at    home.     My  sisters,  it  will    be    skilled  womanly  labor    that  will   finally 
triumph. 

"But,"  you  ask,  "what  would  my  father  and  mother  say  if  they  saw  I  was 
doing    such    unfashionable   work?"     Throw  the    whole    responsibility  upon  the 


78  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

pastor  of  the  Brooklyn  Tabernacle,  who  is  constantly  hearing  of  young  women 
in  all  these  cities  who,  unqualified  by  their  previous  luxurious  surroundings 
for  the  awful  struggle  of  life  into  which  they  have  been  suddenly  hurled, 
seemed  to  have  nothing  left  them  but  a  choice  between  starvation  and  damnation. 
There  they  go  along  the  street  seven  o'clock  in  the  wintry  mornings,  through 
the  slush  and  storm,  to  the  place  where  they  shall  earn  only  half  enough  for 
subsistence,  the  daughters  of  once  prosperous  merchants,  lawyers,  clergymen, 
artists,  bankers  and  capitalists  who  brought  up  their  children  under  the 
infernal  delusion  that  it  was  not  high-toned  for  women  to  learn  a  profitable 
calling.  Young  women,  take  this  affair  in  your  own  hands  and  let  there  be 
an  insurrection  in  all  prosperous  families  of  Brooklyn  and  New  York  and 
Christendom  on  the  part  of  the  daughters  of  this  day,  demanding  knowledge 
in  occupations  and  styles  of  business  by  which  they  may  be  their  own  defense 
and  their  own  support  if  all  fatherly  and  husbandly  and  brotherly  hands 
forever  fail  them. 

I  have  seen  two  sad  sights — the  one  a  woman  in  all  the  glory  of  her 
young  life  stricken  by  disease,  and  in  a  week  lifeless  in  a  home  of  which  she 
had  been  the  pride.  As  her  hands  were  folded  over  the  still  heart  and  her 
eyes  closed  for  the  last  slumber,  and  she  was  taken  out  amid  the  lamentations 
of  kindred  and  friends,  I  thought  that  was  a  sadness  immeasurable.  But  I 
have  seen  something  compared  with  which  that  scene  was  bright  and  songful. 
It  was  a  young  woman  who  had  been  all  her  days  amid  wealthy  surroundings, 
by  the  visit  of  death  and  bankruptcy  to  the  household  turned  out  on  a  cold 
world  without  one  lesson  about  how  to  get  food  or  shelter,  and  into  the  awful 
■whirlpool  of  city  life  where  strong  ships  have  gone  down,  and  for  twenty  years 
not  one  word  has  been  heard  from  her.  Vessels  recently  went  out  on  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  looking  for  a  shipwrecked  craft  that  was  left  alone  and  forsaken 
on  the  sea,  with  the  idea  of  bringing  it  into  port.  But  who  shall  ever  bring 
again  into  the  harbor  of  peace  and  hope  and  heaven  that  lost  womanly  immortal, 
driven  into  what  tempest,  aflame  in  what  conflagration,  sinking  into  what  abyss? 
O  God,  help!  O  Christ,  rescue! 

women's  wages  to  increase. 

My  sisters,  give  not  your  time  to  learning  fancy  work  which  the  world 
may  dispense  with  when  hard  times  come,  but  connect  your  skill  with  the 
indispensables  of  life.  The  world  will  always  want  something  to  wear,  and 
something  to  eat,  and  shelter  and  fuel  for  the  body,  and  knowledge  for  the 
mind,  and  religion  for  the  soul.  '  And  all  these  things  will  continue  to  be  the 
-necessaries,  and  if  you  fasten  your  energies  upon  occupations  and  professions 
thus  related  the  world  will  be  unable  to  do  without  you.  Remember  that  in 
proportion  as  you  are  skilful  in  anything  your  rivalries  become  less.  For 
unskilled  toil,  women  by  the  million.  But  you  may  rise  to  where  there  are 
only  a   thousand:    and   still   higher   till    there    are    only  a   hundred;    and  still 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


79 


higher  until  there  are  only  ten;  and  still  higher  in  some  particular  department 
till  there  is  only  a  unit  and  that  yourself.  For  a  while  you  may  keep  wages 
and  a  place  through  the  kindly  sympathies  of  an  employer,  but  you  will 
eventually  get  no  more  compensation  than  you  can  make  yourself  worth. 

Let  me  say  to  all  women  who  have  already  entered  upon  the  battle  of  life  • 
that  the  time  is  coming    when  woman  shall    not    only  get  as  much  salary  and 
wages    as    men    get,  but    for    certain    styles    of   employment  women    will  have 
higher  salary  and    more    wages,  for    the  reason    that    for    some  styles  of  work 


IDLENESS. 


they  have  more  adaptation.  But  this  justice  will  come  to  woman  not  through 
any  sentiment  of  gallantry,  not  because  woman  is  physically  weaker  than  man 
and  therefore  ought  to  have  more  consideration  shown  her,  but  because  through 
her  finer  natural  taste  and  more  grace  of  manner  and  quicker  perception  and 
more  delicate  touch  and  more  educated  adroitness  she  will  in  certain  callings 
be  to  her  employer  worth  10  per  cent,  more,  or  20  per  cent,  more  than  the 
other  sex.  She  will  not  get  it  by  asking  for  it,  but  by  earning  it,  and  it  shall 
be  hers  by  lawful  conquest. 

Now,  men  of  America,  be    fair    and    give    the  women  a  chance!     Are  you 
afraid  that  they  will  do  some  of  your  work,  and  hence  harm  your  prosperities? 


(8o) 


'WOMAN,    BEHOLD  THY  SON;    BEHOLD  THY   MOTHER."— JOHN  XIX.    26. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  8r 

• 

Remember  that  there  are  scores  of  thousands  of  men  doing  women's  work. 
Do  not  be  afraid!  God  knows  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  He  knows 
how  many  people  this  world  can  feed  and  shelter,  and  when  it  gets  too  full 
He  will  end  the  world,  and,  if  need  be,  start  another.  God  will  halt  the 
inventive  faculty,  which,  by  producing  a  machine  that  will  do  the  work  of  ten- 
or twenty  or  ioo  men  and  women,  will  leave  that  number  of  people  without 
work.  I  hope  that  there  will  not  be  invented  another  sewing  machine  or 
reaping  machine  or  corn  thresher,  or  any  other  new  machine  for  the  next 
500  years.  We  want  no  more  wooden  hands  and  iron  hands  and  steel  hands 
and  electric  hands  substituted  for  men  and  women  who  would  otherwise  do  the 
work  and  get  'the  pay  and  earn  the  livelihood. 

WOMEN    WHO    HAVE   WON    THE   DAY. 

But  God  will  arrange  all,  and  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  do  our  best  and 
trust  Him  for  the  rest.  Let  me  cheer  all  women  fighting  the  battle  of  life 
alone  with  the  fact  that  thousands  of  women  have  in  that  way  won  the  day. 
And  tens  of  thousands  of  women  of  whose  bravery  and  self-sacrifice  and 
glory  of  character  the  world  has  made  no  record,  but  whose  deeds  are  in 
the  heavenly  archives  of  martyrs,  who  fought  the  battle  alone  and,  though 
unrecognized  for  the  short  thirty  or  fifty  or  eighty  years  of  their  earthly 
existence,  shall,  through  the  quintillion  ages  of  the  higher  world,  be  pointed 
out  with  the  admiring  cry,  "These  are  they  who  have  won  a  tribute  from 
mankind  and  a  blessing  of  God  by  the  force  of  their  own  genius,  by  the  per- 
sistency of  their  faith,  by  duties  well  performed." 

Let  me  also  say  for  the  encouragement  of  all  women  fighting  the  battle 
of  life  alone  that  their  conflict  will  soon  end.  There  is  one  word  written  over 
the  faces  of  many  of  them,  and  that  word  is,  Despair.  My  sister,  you  need 
appeal  to  that  Christ  who  comforted  the  sisters  of  Bethany  in  their  domestic 
trouble,  and  who  in  His  last  hours  forgot  all  the  pangs  of  His  own  hands 
and  feet  and  heart  as  He  looked  into  the  face  of  maternal  anguish,  and  called 
a  friend's  attention  to  it,  in  substance  saying:  "John,  I  cannot  take  care  of  her 
an)'  longer.  Do  for  her  as  I  would  have  done  if  I  had  lived.  Behold  thy 
mother!"  If,  under  the  pressure  of  unrewarded  and  unappreciated  work,  your 
hair  is  whitening  and  the  wrinkles  come,  rejoice  that  you  are  nearing  the  hour  of 
escape  from  your  very  last  fatigue,  and  may  your  departure  be  as  pleasant  as  that 
of  Isabella  Graham,  who  closed  her  life  with  a  smile  and  the  word  "  Peace." 
The  daughter  of  a  regiment  in  any  army  is  all  surrounded  by  bayonets  of  defense, 
and  in  the  battle,  whoever  falls,  she  is  kept  safe.  And  you  are  the  daughter 
of  the  regiment  commanded  by  the  Lord  of  hosts.  After  all,  you  are  not  fight- 
ing the  battle  of  life  alone.  All  heaven  is  on  your  side. 
6 


GEo  tfje  Momm  of  &merfca. 

UNHAPPY  MARRIAGES,  AND  HOW  THEY  MAY  BE  AVOIDED. 

IBLE    biography    introduces    to    our    notice    a    drunken 
bloat    owning    a    large    property.     Before    the    day  of 
safety    deposits    and    government    bonds    and    national 
banks,  people    had    their    investments  «in    flocks    and 
herds,  and  a  certain  man,  named  Nabal,  had  much  of 
his    possessions    in    live    stock.     He    came    also    of    a 
distinguished    family    and    had    glorious    Caleb  for  an 
ancestor.     But  this  descendant    was  a    sneak,  a  churl, 
a  sot  and  a  fool.     One  instance,  to  illustrate :    It  was 
a  wool-raising  country,  and  at  the  time  of  shearing  a 
a    great    feast    was    prepared    for  the    shearer ;    and    David   and    his 
warriors,  who  had  in  other  days  saved  from  destruction  the  thresh- 
ing floors  of  Nabal,  sent  to  him  asking,  in  this  time  of  plenty,  for 
some  bread  for  their  starving  men.     And  Nabal  cried    out :    "  Who 
is    David?"      As    though    an    Englishman    had    said:    "Who    is 
Wellington  ?  "    or  a  German  should  say  :    "  Who  is  Von  Moltke  ?  " 
or    an    American    should    say:    "Who    is   Washington?"     Nothing 
did  Nabal  give  to  the  starving  men,  and  that  night    the  scoundrel 
lay    dead    drunk    at    home,  and  the    Bible    gives    us    a    full-length 
picture  of  him  sprawling  and  maudlin  and  helpless. 

Now  that  was  the  man  whom  Abigail,  the  lovely  and  gracious 
and  good  woman,  married — a  tuberose  planted  beside  a  thistle,  a 
palm  branch  twined  into  a  wreath  of  deadly  nightshade.  Surely 
that  was  not  one  of  the  matches  made  in  heaven.  We  throw  up  our  hands 
in  horror  at  that  wedding.  How  did  she  ever  consent  to  link  her  destinies 
with  such  a  creature  ?  Well,  she  no  doubt  thought  that  it  would  be  an  honor 
to  be  associated  with  an  aristocratic  family  and  no  one  can  despise  a  great 
name.  Beside  this,  wealth  would  come,  and  with  it  chains  of  gold  and  man- 
sions lighted  by  swinging  lamps  of  aromatic  oil,  and  resounding  with  the 
cheer  of  banqueters  seated  at  tables  laden  with  wines  from  the  richest  vine- 
vards,  and  fruits  from  ripest  orchards,  and  nuts  threshed  from  foreign  woods, 
and  meats  smoking  in  platters  of  gold  set  on  by  slaves  in  bright  uniform. 
Before  she  plighted  her  troth  with  this  dissipated  man  she  sometimes  said  to 
herself:  "How  can  I  endure  him?  To  be  associated  for  life  with  such  a  de- 
bauchee I  cannot  and  will  not!"  But  then  again  she  said  to  herself:  "It  is 
time  I  was    married,    and    this    is    a    cold   world    to  depend  on,  and  perhaps    I 

(82) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE 


83 


might  do  worse,  and  may  be  I  will  make  a  sober  man  out  of  him,  and  marriage 
is  a  lottery  anyhow."  And  when  one  day  this  representative  of  a  great  house 
presented  himself  in  a  parenthesis  of  sobriety,  and  with  an  assumed  geniality 
and  gallantry  of  manner,  and  with  promises  of  fidelity  and  kindness  and  self- 
abnegation,  a  June  morning  smiled  on  a  March  squall,  and  the  great-souled 
woman  surrendered  her  happiness  to  the  keeping  of  this  infamous  son  of  for- 
tune whose  possessions  were  in  Carmel ;  and  the  man  was  very  great,  and  he 
had  3000  sheep  and  1000  goats. 

AN   EVERYDAY   TRAGEDY. 

Behold  here  a  domestic  tragedy  repeated  every  hour  of  every  day  all  over 
Christendom — marriage  for  worldly  success  without  regard  to  character.  So 
Marie  Jeanne  Philpon,  the 
daughter  of  the  humble  en- 
graver of  Paris,  became  the 
famous  Mme.  Roland  of  history, 
the  vivacious  and  brilliant  girl 
united  with  the  cold,  formal, 
monotonous  man  because  he 
came  of  an  affluent  family  of 
Amiens  and  had  lordly  blood 
in  his  veins.  The  day,  when 
through  political  revolution, 
this  patriotic  woman  was  led  to 
the  scaffold  around  which  lay 
piles  of  human  heads  that  had 
fallen  from  the  axe,  she  said 
to  an  aged  man  whom  she  had 
comforted :  "  Go  first  that  you 
may  not  witness  my  death," 
and  then  undaunted  took  her 
turn  to  die — that  day  was  to 
her  only  the  last  act  of  a  trag- 
edy of  which  her  uncongenial  marriage  day  was  the  first. 

Good  and  genial  character  in  a  man  is  the  very  first  requisite  for  a  woman's 
happy  marriage.  Mistake  me  not  as  depreciative  of  worldly  prosperities.  There 
is  a  religious  cant  that  would  seem  to  represent  poverty  as  a  virtue  and  wealth 
as  a  crime.  I  can  take  you  through  a  thousand  mansions  where  God  is  as 
much  worshipped  as  He  ever  was  in  a  cabin.  The  gospel  inculcates  the  virtues 
which  tend  toward  wealth.  In  the  millennium  we  will  all  dwell  in  palaces,  and 
ride  in  chariots,  and  sit  at  sumptuous  banquets,  and  sleep  under  rich  embroi- 
deries, and  live  400  or  500  years  ;  for  if,  according  to  the  Bible,  in  those  times  a 
child  shall  die  100  years  old,  the  average  of  human  life  will  be  at  least  five  centu- 


ABIGAIL    BRINGING    PROVISIONS   TO   DAVID. 


s4 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


ries.     The  whole 
tendency    of    sin 
is  toward  poverty, 
and   the     whole 
tendency  of  right- 
eousness     is    to- 
ward     wealth. 
Godliness  is  prof- 
itable for  the  life 
that    now     is    as 
well   as   for     that 
which  is  to  come. 
No  inventory  can 
be   made     of   the 
picture     galleries 
consecrated  to 
God,  and  of  sculp- 
ture and  of  libra- 
ries  and    pillared 
magnificence,  and 
of    parks     and 
fountains    and 
gardens    in    the 
ownership     of 
good    men     and 
women.    The  two 
most  lordly  resi- 
dences  in  which 
I    was     ever    a 
guest  had  morn- 
ing and   evening 
prayers,    all     the 
employes  pres- 
ent, and    all  day 
long  there  was  an 
air  of  cheerful 
piety  in  the  con- 
versation and  be- 
havior.      Lord 
Radstock   carried 
the  gospel  to  the 
Russian  nobility. 
Lord  Cavan    and 
Lord     Cairns 
spent  their  vaca- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


S5 


tion  in  evangelistic  services.  Lord 
Congleton  became  missionary  to 
Bagdad.  And  the  Christ  who  was 
born  in  an  Eastern  caravansary  has 
again  and   again  lived  in   a  palace. 

It  is  a  grand  thing  to  have 
plenty  of  money,  and  horses  that 
don't  compel  you  to  take  the  dust 
of  every  lumbering  and  lazy  vehicle, 
and  books  of  history  that  give  you 
a  glimpse  of  all  the  past,  and 
shelves  of  poetry  to  which  you  may 
go  and  ask  Milton,  or  Tennyson,  or 
Spenser,  or  Tom  Moore,  or  Robert 
Burns  to  step  down  and  spend  an 
evening  with  you  ;  and  other  shelves 
to  which  you  may  go  while  you  feel 
disgusted  with  the  shams  of  the 
world  and  ask  Thackeray  to  ex- 
press your  chagrin,  or  Charles  Dick- 
ens to  expose  the  Pecksnifnanism, 
or  Thomas  Carlyle  to  thunder  your 
indignation,  or  the  other  shelves 
where  the  old  gospel  writers  stand 
ready  to  warm  and  cheer  us  while 
they  open  doors  into  that  city  which 
is  so  bright  the  noonday  sun  is 
abolished. 

There  is  no  virtue  in  owning 
a  horse  that  takes  four  minutes  to 
go  a  mile  if  you  can  own  one  that 
can  go  in  a  little  over  two  minutes 
and  a  half;  no  virtue  in  running 
into  the  teeth  of  a  north-east  wind 
with  thin  apparel  if  you  can  afford 
furs;  no  virtue  in  being  poor  when 
you  can  honestly  be  rich.  There 
are  names  of  men  and  women  that 
I  have  only  to  mention,  and  they 
suggest  not  only  wealth,  but  re- 
ligion and  generosity  and  philan- 
thropy, such  as  Amos  Lawrence,  James  Lennox,  Peter  Cooper,  William  E. 
Dodge,  Shaftesbury,  Miss  Wolfe  and  Mrs.  Astor. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  87 

If  there  be  good  moral  character,  accompanied  by  affluent  circumstances, 
I  congratulate  you.  If  not,  let  the  morning  lark  fly  clear  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
eagle.  The  sacrifice  of  woman  on  the  altar  of  social  and  financial  expectation 
is  cruel  and  stupendous.  I  sketch  you  a  scene  you  have  more  than  once 
witnessed. 

A   PICTURE   FROM   LIFE. 

A  comfortable  home,  with  nothing  more  than  ordinary  surroundings,  but 
.  n  attractive  daughter  carefully  and  Christianly  reared.  From  the  outside 
world  comes  in  a  man  with  nothing  but  money — unless  you  count  profanity 
and  selfishness  and  fondness  for  champagne  and  general  recklessness  as  a  part 
of  his  possessions.  He  has  his  coat  collar  turned  up  when  there  is  no  chill 
in  the  air,  but  because  it  gives  him  an  air  of  abandon;  and  eye-glass,  not 
because  he  is  near-sighted,  but  because  it  gives  a  classical  appearance;  and 
with  an  attire  somewhat  loud,  a  cane  thick  enough  to  be  the  club  of  Hercules 
and  clutched  at  the  middle,  his  conversation  interlarded  with  French  phrases 
inaccurately  pronounced,  and  a  sweep  of  manner  indicating  that  he  was  not 
born  like  most  folks,  but  terrestrially  landed.  By  arts  learned  of  the  devil  he 
insinuates  himself  into  the  affections  of  the  daughter  of  that  Christian  home. 
All  the  kindred  congratulate  her  on  the  almost  supernaturally  bright  prospects. 
Reports  come  in  that  the  young  man  is  fast  in  his  habits;  that  he  has  broken 
several  young  hearts,  and  that  he  is  mean  and  selfish  and  cruel.  But  all  this 
is  covered  up  with  the  fact  that  he  has  several  houses  in  his  own  name,  and 
has  large  deposits  at  the  bank,  and,  more  than  all,  has  a  father  worth  many 
undred  thousand  dollars  and  very  feeble  in  health,  and  may  any  day  drop  off, 
and  this  is  the  only  son,  and  a  round  dollar  held  close  to  one's  eye  is  large 
enough  to  shut  out  a  great  desert,  and  how  much  more  will  several  bushels 
of  dollars  shut  out. 

The  marriage  day  comes  and  goes.  The  wedding  ring  was  costly  enough, 
and  the  orange  blossoms  fragrant  enough,  and  the  benediction  solemn  enough, 
and  the  wedding  march  stirring  enough.  And  the  audience  shed  tears  of 
sympathetic  gladness,  supposing  that  the  craft  containing  the  two  has  sailed 
off  on  a  placid  lake,  although  God  knows  that  they  are  launched  on  a  dead  sea, 
its  waters  brackish  with  tears,  and  ghastly  with  faces  of  despair  floating  to 
the  surface  and  then  going  down.  There  they  are,  the  newly-married  pair  in 
their  new  home.  He  turns  out  to  be  a  tyrant.  Her  will  is  nothing,  his  will 
everything.  Lavish  of  money  for  his  ,own  pleasure,  he  begrudges  her  the 
pennies  he  pinches  out  into  her  trembling  palm.  Instead  of  the  kind  words 
she  left  behind  in  her  former  home,  now  there  are  complaints  and  fault-findings 
and  curses.  He  is  the  master  and  she  the  slave.  The  worst  villain  on  earth 
is  the  man  who,  having  captured  a  woman  from  her  father's  house,  and  after 
the  oath  of  the  marriage  altar  has  been  pronounced,  says,  by  his  manner  if  not 
in  words:  "I  have  you  now  in  my  power.  What  can  you  do?  My  arm  is 
stronger  than  yours.     M}'  voice    is  louder    than   yours.     My  fortune  is  greater 


88 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


than  yours.  My  name  is  mightier  than  yours.  Now  crouch  before  me  like  a 
dog.  Now  crawl  away  from  me  like  a  reptile.  You  are  nothing  but  a  woman, 
anyhow.     Down,  yo.u  miserable  wretch!  "      Can   halls  of   mosaic,  can  long  lines 


WEDDED   AND   BROKEN-HEARTED. 


of  Etruscan  bronze,  or  statuary  by  Palmer  and  Powers  and  Crawford  and  Chantry 
and  Canova,  can  galleries  rich  from  the  pencil  of  Bierstadt  and  Church  and 
Kenset  and  Cole  and  Cropsey,  could  violins  played  on  by  an  Ole  Bull  or  pianos 
fingered  by  a  Gottschalk,  or  solos  warbled  by  a  Sontag,  could  wardrobes  like  that 


THE    PATHWAY  OF   LIFE.  89 

of  a  Marie  Antoinette,  could  jewels  like  those  of  a  Eugenie  make  a  wife  in  such 
a  companionship  happy? 

Imprisoned  in  a  castle !  Her  gold  bracelets  are  the  chains  of  a  lifelong 
servitude.  There  is  a  sword  over  her  every  feast,  not  like  that  of  Damocles, 
staying  suspended,  but  dropping  through  her  lacerated  heart.  Her  wardrobe  is- 
full  of  shrouds  for  deaths  which  she  dies  daily,  and  she  is  buried  alive  though 
buried  under  gorgeous  upholstery.  There  is  one  word  that  sounds  under  the 
arches,  and  rolls  along  the  corridors,  and  weeps  in  the  falling  fountains,  and  echoes 
in  the  shutting,  of  every  door,  and  groans  in  every  note  of  stringed  and  wind 
instrument:  "Woe!  Woe!"  The  oxen  and  sheep  in  olden  time  brought  to  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  to  be  sacrificed  used  to  be  covered  with  ribbons  and  flowers, 
ribbons  on  the  horns  and  flowers  on  the  neck.  But  the  floral  and  ribboned 
decorations  did  not  make  the  stab  of  the  butcher's  knife  less  deathful,  and  all 
the  chandeliers  you  hang  over  such  a  woman,  and  all  the  robes  with  which  you 
enwrap  her,  and  all  the  ribbons  with  which  you  adorn  her,  and  all  the  bewitching 
charms  with  which  you  embank  her  footsteps,  are  the  ribbons  and  flowers  of  a 
horrible  butchery. 

TWO   DUCAL   PALACES. 

As  if  to  show  how  wretched  a  good  woman  may  be  in  splendid  surround- 
ings we  have  two  recent  illustrations,  two  ducal  palaces  in  Great  Britain.  Each 
is  a  focus  of  the  best  things  that  are  possible  in  art,  in  literature,  in  architec- 
ture, the  accumulation  of  other  estates  until  their  wealth  is  beyond  calculation, 
and  their  grandeur  beyond  description.  One  of  the  castles  has  a  cabinet  set  with 
gems  that  cost  $2,500,000,  and  the  walls  of  it  bloom  with  Rembrandts  and  Claudes 
and  Poussins  and  Guidos  and  Raphaels,  and  there  are  Southdown  flocks  in 
summer  grazing  on  its  lawns  and  Arab  steeds  prancing  at  the  doorways  on  the 
"  first  open  day  at  the  kennels."  From  the  one  castle  the  Duchess  has 
removed  with  her  children  because  she  can  no  longer  endure  the  orgies  of  her 
husband,  the  Duke,  and  in  the  other  castle  the  Duchess  remains  confronted  by 
insults  and  abominations  in  the  presence  of  which  I  do  not  think  God  or  decent 
society  requires  a  good  woman  to  remain.  Alas,  for  these  ducal  country  seats  1 
They,  on  a  large  scale,  illustrate  what  on  a  smaller  scale,  may  be  seen  in  many 
places,  that  without  moral  character  in  a  husband  all  the  accessories  of  wealth  are 
to  a  wife's  soul  tantalization  and  mockery.  When  Abigail  finds  Nabal,  her 
husband,  beastly  drunk  as  she  comes  home  from  interceding  for  his  fortune  and 
life,  it  was  no  alleviation  that  the  old  brute  had  possessions  in  Carmel,  and 
"  was  very  great,  and  had  3000  sheep  and  1000  goats,"  and  he,  the  worst  goat 
among  them.  The  animal  in  his  nature  seized  the  soul  in  its  mouth  and  ran 
off  with  it. 

Before  things  are  right  in  this  world,  genteel  villains  are  to  be  expurgated. 
Instead  of  being  welcomed  into  respectable  society  because  of  the  amount  of  stars 
and  garters  and  medals  and  estates  they  represent,  they  ought  to  be  fumigated 


■ 

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THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  91 

two  or  three  years  before  they  are  allowed,  without  peril  to  themselves,  to  put 
their  hand  on  the  door  knob  of  a  moral  house.  The  time  must  come  when  a 
masculine  estray  will  be  as  repugnant  to  good  society  as  a  feminine  estray, 
and  no  coat-of-arms  or  family  emblazonry  or  epaulet  can  pass  a  Lothario 
unchallenged  among  the  sanctities  of  home  life.  By  what  law  of  God  or  con> 
mon  sense  is  an  Absalom  better  than  a  Delilah,  a  Don  Juan  better  than  a 
Messalina?  The  brush  that  paints  the  one  black  must  paint  the  other 
black.  But  what  a  spectacle  it  was  when  one  summer  much  of  watering- 
place  society  went  wild  with  enthusiasm  over  an  unclean  foreign  dignitary 
whose  name  in  both  hemispheres  is  a  synonym  for  profligacy,  and  prin- 
cesses of  American  society  from  all  parts  of  the  land  had  him  ride  in  their 
carriages  and  sit  at  their  tables,  though  they  knew  him  to  be  a  portable 
lazaretto,  a  charnel  house  of  moral  putrefaction,  his  breath  a  typhoid,  his  foot 
that  of  a  satyr,  and  his  touch  death.  Here  is  an  evil  that  men  cannot  stop, 
but  women  may.  Keep  all  such  out  of  your  parlors,  have  no  recognition  for 
them  in  the  street,  and  no  more  think  of  allying  your  life  and  destiny  with 
theirs  than  "  gales  from  Araby "  would  consent  to  pass  the  honeymoon  with 
an  Egyptian  plague.  All  the  money  or  social  position  a  bad  man  brings  to 
a  woman  in  marriage  is  a  splendid  despair,  a  gilded  horror,  a  brilliant  agony, 
a  prolonged  death,  and  the  longer  the  marital  union  lasts  the  more  evident 
will  be  the  fact  that  she  might  better  never  have  been  born.  Yet  you  and  I 
have  been  at  brilliant  weddings  where,  before  the  feast  was  over,  the  bride- 
groom's tongue  was  thick  and  his  eye  .glassy  and  his  step  a  stagger,  as  he 
clicked  glasses  with  jolly  comrades,  all  going  with  lightning  limited  express 
train  to  the  fatal  crash  over  the  embankment  of  a  ruined  life  and  a  lost 
eternity. 

Woman,  join  not  your  right  hand  with  such  a  right  hand.  Accept  from 
such  a  one  no  jewel  for  finger  or  ear,  lest  that  sparkle  of  precious  stone  turn 
out  to  be  the  eye  of  a  basilisk;  and  let  not  the  ring  come  on  the  finger  of 
your  right  hand,  lest  that  ring  turn  out  to  be  one  link  of  a  chain  that  shall 
bind  you  in  never-ending  captivity.  In  the  name  of  God  and  Heaven  and 
home,  in  the  name  of  all  time  and  all  eternity,  I  forbid  the  banns !  Consent 
not  to  join  one  of  the  many  regiments  of  women  who  have  married  for  worldly 
success,  without  regard  to  moral  character. 

A   ROYAL   MARRIAGE. 

If  you  are  ambitious,  O  woman,  for  noble  affiancing,  why  not  marry  a 
king  ?  And  to  that  honor  you  are  invited  by  the  monarch  of  heaven  and  earth. 
And  this  day  a  voice  from  the  skies  sounds  forth:  "As  the  bridegroom 
rejoiceth  over  the  bride  so  shall  thy  God  rejoice  over  thee."  Let  Him  put 
upon  thee  the  ring  of  this  royal  marriage.  Here  is  an  honor  worth  reaching 
after.  By  repentance  and  faith  you  may  come  into  a  marriage  with  the 
Emperor  of  universal  dominion,  and  you  may  be  an  empress  unto  God  forever, 


92 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


and  reign  with  Him  in  palaces  that  the  centuries  cannot  crumble  or  cannonades 
demolish. 

High  worldly  marriage    is    not    necessary  for  women,  or    marriage  of  any 
hind,    in    order  to    your    happiness.     Celibacy    has    been    honored    by  the    best 


Cleopatra  before  Cesar.— From  the  Painting  by  J.  L.  Gerome. 

being  that  ever  lived  and  his  greatest  apostle— Christ  and  Paul.    What  higher 
honor  could  single  life  on  earth  have?     But  what  you  need,  O  woman,  is  to  be 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  93 

effieiiceci  forever  and  forever,  and  the  banns  of  that   marriage  the   angels  will 
publish  ia  hosannas  of  rejoicing. 

One  of  the  most  stirring  passages  in  history  with  which  I  am  acquainted 
tells  us  how  Cleopatra,  the  exiled  queen  of  Egypt,  won  the  sympathy  of 
Julius  Caesar,  the  conqueror,  until  he  became  the  bridegroom  and  she  the 
bride.  Driven  from  her  throne,  she  sailed  away  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea  in 
a  storm,  and  when  the  large  ship  anchored  she  put  out  with  one  womanly 
friend  in  a  small  boat  until  she  arrived  at  Alexandria,  where  was  Caesar,  the 
great  general.  Knowing  that  she  would  not  be  permitted  to  land  or  pass 
the  guards  on  the  way  to  Caesar's  palace,  she  laid  upon  the  bottom  of  the 
boat  some  shawls  and  scarfs  and  richly  dyed  upholstery,  and  then  lay  down 
upon  them,  and  her  friend  wrapped  her  in  them,  and  she  was  admitted  ashore 
in  this  wrapping  of  goods,  which  was  announced  as  a  present  for  Caesar. 
This  bundle  was  permitted  to  pass  the  guards  of  the  gates  of  the  palace,  and 
was  put  down  at  the  feet  of  the  Roman  general.  When  the  bundle  was 
unrolled  there  rose  before  Caesar  cne  whose  courage  and  beauty  and  brilliancy 
are  the  astonishment  of  the  ages.  This  exiled  queen  of  Egypt  told  the  story 
of  her  sorrows,  and  he  promised  her  that  she  should  get  back  her  throne  in 
Egypt  and  take  the  throne  of  wifely  dominion  in  his  own  heart.  Afterwards 
they  made  a  triumphal  tour  in  a  barge  that  the  pictures  of  many  art  galleries 
have  called  "Cleopatra's  Barge,"  and  that  barge  was  covered  with  a  silken 
awning,  and  its  deck  was  soft  with  luxuriant  carpets,  and  the  oars  were  silver- 
tipped,  and  the  prow  was  gold-mounted,  and  the  air  was  redolent  with  the 
spicery  of  tropical  gardens  and  resonant  with  the  music  that  made  the  night 
glad  as  the  day.  You  may  rejoice,  O  woman!  that  you  are  not  a  Cleopatra 
and  that  the  one  to  whom  you  may  be  affianced  had  none  of  the  sins  of 
Caesar,  the  conqueror.  But  it  suggests  to  me  how  you,  a  soul  exiled  from 
happiness  and  peace,  may  find  your  way  to  the  feet  of  the  conqueror  of  the 
earth  and  sky.  Though  it  may  be  a  dark  night  of  spiritual  agitation  in  which 
you  put  out,  into  the  harbor  of  peace  you  may  sail,  and  when  all  the  wrap- 
pings of  fear  and  doubt  and  sin  shall  be  removed,  you  will  be  found  at  the 
feet  of  Him  who  will  put  you  on  a  throne,  to  be  acknowledged  as  His  in 
the  day  when  all  the  silver  trumpets  of  the  sky  shall  proclaim,  "Behold  the 
bridegroom  cometh,"  and  in  a  barge  of  light  you  shall  sail  with  Him  the 
river  whose  source  is  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  whose  mouth  is  at  the  sea 
of  glass  mingled  with  fire. 


SSJountJcti  2Lobe. 


THE    BROKEN    PROMISES    OF    MARRIAGE. 

ENERAL   JEPHTHAH,     the    commander-in-chief   of   the 
Israelitish    forces    is    buckling    on    the    sword    for    the 
extermination  of  the  pestiferous  Ammonites,  and  look- 
ing up  to  the  sky,  he   promises    that   if  God  will  give 
him  the  victory  he  will  put  to  death  and  sacrifice  as 
a  burned    offering  the   first  thing  that  comes  out  from 
the    door    of    his    homestead  when    he    returns.      The 
hurrahing  of  triumph   soon  runs  along  the  line  of  all 
the  companies,  regiments   and   divisions   of  Jephthah's 
army.     A  worse  beaten  enemy  than  those   Ammonites 
never    strewed    any  plain    with    their    carcasses.     Gen- 
eral  Jephthah,    fresh    from    his  victory,    is    now    on    his    way 
home.     As  he   came  over  the  hills    and    through    the  valleys 
the  whole  march  homeward   for  his  men  is  a   cheer,  but   for 
him  a  great  anxiety,  for   he    remembers    his   vow  to  slay  and 
burn  the  first  thing  that  comes  forth  from  his  house  to  greet 
him  after  his  victory. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  the  old  watch-dog  that  shall  first 
come  out,  and  who  could  get  heart  to  beat  out  the  life  of  a  faithful  creature 
like  that  as  he  comes  fawning,  and  barking,  and  frisking,  and  putting  up  his 
paw  "against  his  master  in  merry  welcome  after  long  absence  ?  No ;  it  was  not 
that  which  came  forth  to  meet  Jephthah.  Perhaps  it  may  be  a  young  dove  let 
out  from  its  cage  in  the  General's  home,  which,  gaining  its  liberty,  may  seem  to 
rejoice  in  the  public  gladness,  and  flutter  on  the  shoulder  of  the  familiar  head 
of  the  household.  But  who  could  have  the  heart  to  slay  such  a  winged  inno- 
cent? No;  it  was  not  that  which  came  forth  to  meet  Jephthah.  Or  it  may  be 
some  good  neighbor  that  will  rush  out  to  greet  him,  after  having  first  been  in  to 
tell  the  family  of  the  near  approach  of  the  General.  But  who  could  slay  a 
neighbor  who  had  come  on  the  scene  to  rejoice  over  the  reunited  household? 
No;  it  was  not  that  which  came  forth  to  meet  Jephthah. 

As  he  advances  upon  his  home  the  door  opens  and  out  of  it  comes  one 
whose  appearance  under  other  circumstances  would  have  been  an  indescribable 
joy,  but  under  the  pledge  of  a  sacrifice  becomes  a  horror  which  blanches  his 
cheek  and  paralyzes  his  form  and  almost  hurls  him  flat  to  the  earth.  His 
child,  his  only  child,  his  daughter,  comes  skipping  out  to  greet  him,  her  step 

(94) 


jephthah's  daughter  bewailing  her  sacrifice.— From  the  Painting  by  W.  Holman  Hunt. 

(95) 


96  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

keeping  time  to  a  timbrel  which  she  shakes  and  smites.  Did  ever  a  conqueror's 
cheer  end  in  such  a  bitter  groan  ?  No  wonder  Dore,  in  two  of  his  master- 
pieces, presents  the  scene.  And  Handel  made  it  the  last  and  climacteric  work 
of  his  life  to  put  this  pathetic  and  overpowering  circumstance  in  an  oratorio, 
seven  months  toiling  amid  its  majestic  harmonies  until  his  eyesight  gave  out, 
and,  as  though  the  sad  scene  of  Jephthah's  daughter's  sacrifice  were  too  much 
for  mortal  vision,  the  grand  old  musician  was  led  blind  into  the  orchestra  for 
the  first  rendering  of  Jephthah.  All  the  glories  of  victorious  war  are  blotted 
out  from  Jephthah's  memory,  and  his  banner  is  folded  in  grief,  and  his  sword 
goes  back  into  the  scabbard  with  dolorous  clang,  and  the  muffled  drum  takes 
the  place  of  the  cymbals,  and  the  "tremolo"  the  place  of  the  trumpet,  and 
he  cries  out :  "Alas,  my  daughter,  thou  hast  brought  me  very  low,  and  thou 
art  one  of  them  that  trouble  me ;  for  I  have  opened  my  mouth  to  the  Lord, 
and  I  cannot  go  back."  During  two  months  amid  the  mountains,  without 
shelter,  the  maidens  who  would  have  been  at  the  wedding  ranged  with  Jeph- 
thah's daughter  up  and  down,  bewailing  her   coming  sacrifice. 

BROKEN    PROMISES   AND   THE    EFFECT. 

Commentators  and  theologians  are  in  dispute  as  to  whether  that  girl  was 
slain  or  not,  and  as  to  whether,  if  she  were  slain,  it  was  right  or  wrong  in 
Jephthah  to  be  the  executioner,  a  discussion  into  which  I  shall  not  be  diverted 
from  the  overmastering  consideration  that  we  had  better  look  out  what  we 
promise,  better  be  cautious  what  engagement  we  make;  better  that  in  regard  to 
all  matters  of  betrothal  and  plighted  vow  we  feel  the  responsibility  lest  we 
have  either  to  sacrifice  the  truth  or  sacrifice  an  immortal  being,  and  we  be  led 
to  cry  out  with  the  paroxysm  of  a  Jephthah :  "I  have  opened  my  mouth  unto 
the  Lord,  and  I  cannot  go  back." 

There  is  one  ward  in  almost  all  the  insane  asylums  and  a  large  region  in 
almost  every  cemetery  that  you  need  to  visit.  They  are  occupied  by  the  men 
and  women  who  are  the  victims  of  broken  promises  of  marriage.  The  women 
in  those  wards  and  in  those  mortuary  receptacles  are  in  the  majority,  because 
woman  lives  more  in  her  affections  than  does  man,  and  laceration  of  them  in 
her  case  is  more  apt  to  be  a  dementia  and  a  fatality.  In  some  regions  of  this 
land  the  promise  of  marriage  is  considered  to  have  no  solemnity  or  binding 
force.  -It  was  only  made  in  fun.  They  may  change  their  mind.  The  engage- 
ment may  stand  until  some  one  more  attractive  in  person  or  opulent  in  estate 
appears  on  the  scene ;  then  the  rings  are  returned  and  the  amatory  letters  and 
all  relationship  ceases.  And  so  there  are  10,000  Jephthah's  daughters  sacrificed 
as  burnt  offerings.  The  whole  subject  needs  to  be  taken  out  of  the  realm  of 
comedy  into  tragedy,  and  men  and  women  need  to  understand  that,  while 
there  are  exceptions  to  the  rule,  once  having  solemnly  pledged  to  each  other, 
heart  and  hand,  the  forfeiture  and  abandonment  of  that  pledge  makes  the 
Vansgressor,  in  the  sight  of  God,  a  perjurer,  and  so  the  day  of  judgment   will 


(<:) 


98  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

reveal  it.     The  one  has  lied  to  the  other ;   and  all  liars  shall  have  their  place 
in  the  lake  that  burnetii  with  fire  and  brimstone. 

If  a  man  or  woman  make  a  promise  in  the  business  world,  is  there  any 
obligation  to  fulfil  it?  If  a  man  sign  a  note  for  $500,  ought  he  to  pay  it? 
If  a  contract  be  signed  involving  the  building  of  a  house  or  the  furnishing  of 
a  bill  of  goods,  ought  th,ey  stand  by  that  'contract.  "Oh,  yes,"  always 
answered.  Then  I  ask  the  further  question:  "Is  the  heart,  the  happiness,  the 
welfare,  the  temporal  and  eternal  destiny  of  a  man  or  woman  worth  as  much 
as  the  house,  worth  $500,  worth  anything?"  The  realm  of  profligacy  is  filled 
with  men  and  women  as  a  result  of  the  wrong  answer  to  that  question.  The 
most  aggravating,  stupendous  and  God-defying  lie  is  a  lie  in  the  shape  of 
broken  espousal. 

But  suppose  a  man  changes  his  mind,  ought  he  not  back  out?  Not  once 
in  10,000  times.  What  if  I  changed  my  mind  about  a  promissory  note  and 
decline  to  pay  it,  and  suddenly  put  my  property  in  such  shape  that  you  could 
not  collect  your  note  ?  How  would  you  like  that  ?  That,  you  say,  would  be 
a  fraud.  So  is  the  other  a  fraud,  and  punish  it  God  will,  certainly  as  you 
live  and  just  as  certainly  if  you  do  not  live.  I  have  known  men  betrothed  to 
loving  and  good  womanhood  resigning  their  engagement,  and  the  victim  went 
down  in  hasty  consumption,  while  suddenly  the  recreant  man  would  go  up  the 
aisle  of  a  church  in  a  brilliant  bridal  party,  and  the  two  promised  "I  will" 
with  a  solemnity  that  seemed  insurance  of  a  lifetime  happiness.  But  the  sim- 
ple fact  was,  that  was  the  first  act  of  a  Shakespearean  play  entitled,  "Taming 
the  Shrew."  He  found  out  when  too  late  that  he  had  not  married  into  the 
family  of  the  "Graces"  but  into  the  family  of  the  "Furies."  To  the  day  of 
his  death  the  murder  of  his  first  betrothal  followed  him. 

EXCEPTIONAL   CASES. 

The  Bible  extols  one  who  "sweareth  to  his  own  hurt  and  changeth 
not."  That  is,  when  you  make  a  promise  keep  it  at  all  hazards.  There  may 
be  cases  where  deception  has  been  used  at  the  time  of  engagement,  and 
extraordinary  circumstances  where  the  promise  is  not  binding,  but  in  999 
cases  out  of  1000  engagement  is  as  binding  as  marriage.  Robert  Burns  with 
all  his  faults  well  knew  the  force  of  a  marital  engagement.  In  obedience  to 
some  rustic  idea,  he,  standing  on  one  side  the  brook  Ayr,  and  Mary  Campbell 
on  the  other,  they  bathed  their  hands  in  the  water  and  then  put  them  on  the 
boards  of  a  Bible,  making  their  pledge  of  fidelity.  On  the  cover  of  the  Old 
Testament  of  that  book  to  this  day,  in  Robert  Burns'  handwriting,  may  be 
found  the  words:  "Leviticus  xix.  12:  Ye  shall  not  swear  by  my  name 
falsely;  I  am  the  Lord."  And  on  the  cover  of  the  New  Testament,  in  his 
own  handwriting,  "Matthew  v.  33:  Thou  shalt  not  forswear  thyself,  but 
shalt  perform  iinto  the  Lord  thine  oaths." 

Suppose    a    ship    captain    offers    his    services    to    take    a   ship  out   to  sea. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


99 


After  he  gets  a  little  way  he  comes  alongside  of  a  vessel  with  a  more  beautiful 
flag,  and  which  has  perhaps  a  richer  cargo  and  is  bound  for  a  more  attractive 
port.  Suppose  he  rings  a  bell  for  the  engineer  to  slow  up  and  the  wheel 
stops.  Now  I  see  the  captain  being  lowered  over  the  side  of  the  vessel  into 
a  small  boat,  and  he  crosses  to   the   gayer  and  wealthier  craft,  and  climbs  up 


A  broken  vow. — From  the  Painting  by  Ed.  B.  Jones. 

the  sides  and  is  seen  walking  the  bridge  of  the  other  ship.  I  pick  up  his 
resigned  speaking  trumpet  and  I  shout  through  it:  "Captain,  what  does  this 
mean?  Did  you  not  promise  to  take  this  ship  to  Southampton,  England?" 
"Yes,"  says  the   captain,  "but    I    have    changed    my  mind,  and    I  have  found 


ioo  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

I  can  do  better,  and  I  am  going  to  take  charge  here.  I  shall  send  back  to 
you  all  the  letters  I  got  while  managing  that  ship,  and  everything  I  got  from 
your  ship,  and  it  will  be  all  right."  You  tell  me  that  the  worst  fate  for  such 
a  captain  as  that  is  too  good  for  him.  But  it  is  just  what  a  man  or  woman 
does  who  promises  to  take  one  through  the  voyage  of  life,  across  the  ocean 
of  earthly  existence,  and  then  breaks  the  promise.  The  sending  back  of  all 
the  letters  and  rings  and  necklaces  and  keepsakes  cannot  make  that  right 
which  is,  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  ought  to  be  in  the  sight  of  man,  an  ever- 
lasting wrong.  What  American  society  needs  to  be  taught  is  that  betrothal 
is  an  act  so  solemn  and  tremendous  that  all  men  and  women  must  stand  back 
from  it  until  they  are  sure  that  it  is  right,  and  sure  that  it  is  best,  and 
sure  that  no  retreat  will  be  desired.  Before  that  promise  of  lifetime  companion- 
ship any  amount  of  romance  that  you  wish,  any  ardor  of  friendship,  any 
coming  and  going.  But  espousal  is  a  gate,  a  golden  gate,  which  one  should 
not  pass  unless  he  or  she  expects  never  to  return.  Engagement  is  the  porch 
of  which  marriage  is  the  castle,  and  you  haw:  no  right  on  the  porch  if  you 
do  not  mean  to  pass  into  the  castle. 

The  trouble  has  always  been  that  this  whole  subject  of  affiance  has  been 
relegated  to  the  realm  of  frivolity  and  joke,  and  considered  not  worth  a  sermon 
or  even  a  serious  paragraph.  And  so  the  massacre  of  human  lives  has  gone 
on,  and  the  devil  has  had  it  his  own  cruel  way;  and  what  is  mightily  needed 
is  that  pulpit  and  platform  and  printing  press,  all  speak  a  word  of  unmistakable 
and  thunderous  protest  on  this  subject  of  infinite  importance.  We  put  clear 
out  into  thin  poesy  and  light  reading  the  marital  engagements  of  Petrarch 
and  his  Laura,  Dante  and  his  Beatrice,  Chaucer  and  his  Philippa,  Lorenzo  de 
Medici  and  his  Lucretia,  Spenser  and  his  Rosalind,  Waller  and  his  Saccharissa, 
not  realizing  that  it  was  the  style  of  their  engagement  that  decided  their 
happiness  or  wretchedness,  their  virtue  Or  their  profligacy.  All  the  literary 
and  military  and  religious  glory  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  cannot  blot  out 
from  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  pages  of  history  her  infamous  behavior 
towards  Seymour  and  Philip  and  Melville  and  Leicester  and  others.  All  the 
ecclesiastical  robes  that  Dean  Swift  ever  rustled  through  consecrated  places 
cannot  hide  from  intelligent  people  of  all  ages  the  fact  that  by  promises  of 
marriage  which  he  never  fulfilled  he  broke  the  heart  of  Jane  Waring  after  an 
engagement  of  seven  years,  and  the  heart  of  Stella  after  an  engagement  of 
fourteen  years,  and  the  poetic  stanzas  he  dedicated  to  their  excellences  only 
make  the  more  immortal  his  own  perfidy. 

NO   EXCUSE    FOR   MAKING   MISTAKES. 

"But  suppose  I  should  make  a  mistake,"  says  some  man  or  woman,  "and 
I  find  it  out  after  the  engagement  and  before  marriage?"  My  answer  is,  You 
have  no  excuse  for  making  a  mistake  on  this  subject.  There  are  so  many 
ways   of  finding  out  all   about   the  character  and  preferences  and  dislikes  and 


llOl) 


io2  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

habits  of  a  man  or  woman  that  if  you  have  not  brain  enough  to  form  a  right 
judgment  in  regard  to  him  or  her,  you  are  not  so  fit  a  candidate  for  the 
matrimonial  altar  as  you  are  for  an  idiot  asylum.  Notice  what  society  your 
especial  friend  prefers,  whether  he  is  industrious  or  lazy,  whether  she  is  neat 
or  slatternly,  what  books  are  read,  what  was  the  style  of  ancestry,  noble  or 
depraved,  and  if  there  be  any  unsolved  mystery  about  the  person  under  con- 
sideration postpone  all   promise   until  the  mystery  is   solved. 

Jackson's  Hollow,  Brooklyn,  was  part  of  the  city  not  built  on  for  many 
years,  and  every  time  I  crossed  I  said  to  myself  or  to  others,  Why  is  not  this 
land  built  on?  I  found  out  afterward  that  the  title  to  the  land  was  in  contro- 
versy, and  no  one  wanted  to  build  there  until  that  question  was  decided. 
Afterward  I  understood  the  title  was  settled,  and  now  buildings  are  going  up 
all  over  it.  Do  not  build  your  happiness  for  this  world  on  a  character,  mascu- 
line or  feminine,  that  has  not  a  settled  and  undisputed  title  to  honor  and  truth 
and  sobriety  and  kindness  and  righteousness. 

O  woman !  you  have  more  need  to  pause  before  making  such  an  important 
promise  than  man,  because  if  you  make  a  mistake  it  is  worse  for  you.  If  a 
man  blunder  about  promise  of  marriage  he  can  spend  his  evenings  away  and 
can  go  to  the  club  or  the  Republican  or  Democratic  headquarters,  and  absorb 
his  mind  in  city  or  State  and  national  elections,  or  smoke  himself  stupid  or 
drink  himself  drunk.  But  there  is  no  place  of  regular  retreat  for  you,  O 
woman!  and  you  could  not  take  narcotics  or  intoxicants  and  keep  your  respec- 
tability. Before  you  promise,  pray  and  think,  and  study  and  advise.  There 
will  never  again  in  your  earthly  history  be  a  time  when  you  so  much 
need  God. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  world  ought  to  cast  out  from  business  credits  and 
from  good  neighborhood  those  who  boast  of  the  number  of  hearts  they  have 
won,  as  the  Indian  boasts  of  the  number  of  scalps  he  has  taken.  If  a  man  will 
lie  to  a  woman  and  a  woman  will  lie  to  a  man  about  so  important  a  matter  as  that 
of  a  lifetime's  welfare,  they  will  lie  about  a  bill  of  goods,  and  lie  about  finances 
and  lie  about  anything.  Society  to-day  is  brim  full  of  gallants  and  man  milli- 
ners and  carpet  knights  and  coquettes  and  those  most  God-forsaken  of  all 
wretches — flirts.  And  they  go  about  drawing-rooms  and  the  parlors  of  watering 
places,  simpering  and  bowing  and  scraping  and  whispering,  and  then  return  to 
the  club-rooms,  if  they  be  men,  or  to  their  social  gatherings,  if  they  be  women, 
to  chatter  and  giggle  over  what  was  said  to  them  in  confidence.  Condign  pun- 
ishment is  apt  to  come  upon  them  and  they  get  paid  in  their  own  coin.  I 
could  point  you  to  a  score  whom  society  has  let  drop  very  hard  in  return  for 
their  base  traffic  in  human  hearts.  As  to  such -men,  they  walk  around  in  their 
celibacy  after  their  hair  is  streaked  with  gray,  and  pretending  they  are  natur- 
ally short-sighted  when  their  eyes  are  so  old  in  sin  that  they  need  the  specta- 
cles of  a  septuagenarian,  an  eye-glass  about  No.  8,  and  think  they  are  bewitch- 
ing in  their  stride  and  overpowering  in  their  glances,  although  they  are  simply 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


103 


laughing-stocks  for  all  mankind.  And  if  these  base  dealers  in  human  hearts 
be  females  they  are  left  after  a  while  severely  alone,  striving  in  a  very  despera- 
tion of  agony  of  cosmetics  to  get  back  to  the  attractiveness  they  had  when  they 
used  to  brag  how  many  masculine  affections  they  had  slaughtered.  Forsaken  of 
God  and  honest  men  and  good  women  are  sure  to  be  all  such  masculine  and. 
female  triflers  with  human  and  yet  immortal  affections.  O  man,  O  woman, 
having  plighted  your  troth,  stick  to  it ! 

DIVORCE  A   LAST   RESORT. 

I    have    to    say  not    only  to    those  who    have    made    a    mistake    in    solemn 
promise   of  marriage,  but    to   those  who   have   already  at   the    altar   been   pro- 


after  a  divorce,  the  stepmother. — From  a  Painting  by  Haynes  Williams. 

nounced  one,  when  they  are  two,  or  in  diversity  of  tastes  and  likes  and  dis- 
likes are  neither  one  nor  two,  but  a  dozen:  make  the  best  you  can  of  an  awful 
mistake. 

And  here  let  me  answer  letters  that  come  from  every  State  of  the  Ameri- 
can Union,  and  from  across  the  sea,  and  are  coming  year  after  year  from  men 
and  women  who  are  terrifically  allianced  and  tied  together  in  a  hard  knot,  a 
very  hard  knot.  The  letters  run  something  like  this :  "  What  ought  I  to  do, 
my  husband  is  a  drunkard  ?"  "  My  wife  is  a  gad-about,  and  will  not  stay  at 
home."       "  My  companion   is   ignorant   and   hates  books  and  I  revel  in  them." 


io4 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


"  I  like  music,  and  a  piano  sets  my  husband  crazy."  "  I  am  fond  of  social  life, 
and  my  companion  is  a  recluse."  "  I  am  trying  to  be  good,  and  my  life-long 
associate  is'  very  bad.  What  shall  I  do?"  My  answer  is,  there  are  certain 
good  reasons  for  divorcement.  The  Bible  recognizes  them.  Good  society  recog- 
nizes them.  But  it  must  be  the  very  last  resort,  and  only  after  all  reasonable 
attempts  at  reclamation  and  adjustment  have  proved  a  dead  failure.  When  such 
attempts  fail  it  is  generally  because  of  meddlesome  outsiders,  and  women  tell  the 
wronged  wife  how  she  ought  to  stand  on  her  rights,  and  men  tell  the  wronged 


matchmaking  in  early  days. — From  the  Painting  by  H.  Helmick. 

husband  how  he  ought  to  stand  on  his  rights.  And  let  husband  and  wife  in 
an  unhappy  marriage  relation  stand  punctiliously  on  their  rights  and  there  will 
be  no  readjustment,  and  only  one  thing  will  be  sure  to  them,  and  that  is  a 
hell  on  earth. 

If  you  are  unhappily  married,  in  most  cases  I  advise  you,  make  the  best 
you  can  of  an  awfully  bad  bargain.  Do  not  project  your  peculiarities  more 
than  is  necessary.  Perhaps  you  may  have  some  faults  of  your  own  which  the 
other  party  in  the   marital    alliance    may  have  to  suffer.     You  are  in  the  same 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  105 

yoke.  If  you  pull  aside,  the  yoke  will  only  twist  your  neck.  Better  pull 
ahead.  The  world  is  full  of  people  who  made  mistakes,  about  many  things, 
and  among  other  things  about  betrothal  and  marriage,  and  yet  have  been 
tolerably  happy  and  very  useful  in  the  strength  of  God  and  by  the  grace 
promised  in  every  time  of  need  to  those  who  seek  to  conquer  the  disadvantageous 
circumstances.  I  am  acquainted  with  lovely  women  married  to  contemptible 
men,  and  genial  men  yoked  with  termagants  inspired  with  the  devil.  And  yet 
under  these  disadvantages  my  friends  are  useful  and  happy.  God  helps  people 
in  other  kinds  of  martyrdom  and  to  sing  in  the  flame,  and  He  will  help  you 
in  your  life-long  misfortune. 

Remember  the  patience  of  Job.  What  a  wife  he  had!  At  a  time  when 
he  was  one  great  blotch  of  eruptions,  and  his  property  was  destroyed  by  a 
tornado,  and,  more  than  all,  bereavement  had  come  and  the  poor  man  needed 
all  wise  counsel,  she  advises  him  to  go  to  cursing  and  swearing.  She  wanted 
him  to  poultice  his  boils  with  blasphemy.  But  he  lived  right  on  through  his 
marital,  disadvantages,  recovered  his  health  and  his  fortune,  and  raised  a  splendid 
family,  and  the  closing  paragraph  of  the  Book  of  Job  has  such  a  jubilance  that 
I  wonder  people  do  not  oftener  read  it:  "So  the  Lord  blessed  the  latter  end  of 
Job  more  than  his  beginning :  for  he  had  14,000  sheep,  and  6000  camels,  and 
1000  yoke  of  oxen,  and  1000  she-asses.  He  had  also  seven  sons  and  three 
daughters.  And  he  called  the  name  of  the  first,  Jemima ;  and  the  name  of 
the  second,  Kezia ;  and  the  name  of  the  third,  Kerenhappuch.  And  in  all  the 
land  were  no  women  found  so  fair  as  the  daughters  of  Job ;  and  their  father 
gave  them  inheritance  among  their  brethren.  After  this  lived  Job  140  years, 
and  saw  his  sons,  and  his  sons'  sons,  even  four  generations.  So  Job  died, 
being  old  and  full  of  days." 

WHAT   A    WIFE    CAN    DO. 

Now,  my  badly-married  friend  of  either  sex,  if  Job  could  stand  it  by  the 
help  of  God,  then  you  can  stand  it  by  the  same  divine  re-enforcement.  You 
have  other  relations,  O  woman,  beside  the  wifely  relation.  If  you  are  a 
mother,  train  up  your  children  for  God  and  heaven.  If  you  are  a  member  of 
a  church,  help  move  on  its  enterprises.  You  can  get  so  much  of  the  grace  of 
God  in  your  heart  that  all  your  home  trials  will  seem  insignificant.  How  little 
difference  does  it  make  what  your  unrighteous  husband  calls  you,  if  God  calls 
you  His  child  and  you  are  an  heiress  of  whole  kingdoms  beyond  the  sky? 

Immerse  yourself  in  some  kind  of  outside  usefulness,  something  that  will 
enlist  your  prayers,  your  sympathies,  your  hand,  your  needle,  your  voice.  Get 
your  heart  on  fire  with  love  to  God  and  the  disctithrallment  of  the  human  race, 
and  the  troubles  of  your  home  will  be  blotted  out  in  the  glory  of  your  conse- 
crated life.  I  cry  out  to  you,  O  woman,  as  Paul  exclaims  in  his  letter  to  the 
Corinthians :  What  knowest  thou,  O  wife,  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy  hus- 
band?    And  if  you    cannot   save    hfin    you    can    help  in  the  grander,  mightier 


io6 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


enterprise  of  helping  save  the  world.  Out  of  the  awful  mistake  of  your  mar- 
riage rise  into  the  sublimest  life  of  self-sacrifice  for  God  and  suffering 
humanity.  Instead  of  settling  down  to  mope  over  your  domestic  woes,  enlist 
your  energies  for  the  world's  redemption. 

Some  parts  of  Holland  keep  out  the  ocean  only  by  dikes  or  walls  of  stout 
masonry.     The  engineer  having  these  dikes  in  charge  was  soon    to  be    married 


SICK    AND   NEGLECTED. 


to  a  maiden  living  in  one  of  the  villages,  the  existence  of  which  depended  on 
the  strength  of  these  dikes.  And  there  was  to  be  a  great  feast  in  one  of  the 
villages  that  approaching  evening  in  honor  of  the  coming  bridegroom.  That 
day  a  great  storm  threatened  the  destruction  of  the  dikes,  and  hence  the 
destruction  of  thousands  of  lives  in  the  villages  .  sheltered  by  that  stone  wall. 
The  ocean  was  in  full  wrath,  beating  against  the  dikes,  and  the  tides  and    the 


i 


(I07> 


108  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

terror  were  still  rising.  "  Shall  I  go  to  the  feast,"  says  the  engineer,  "  or  shall 
I  go  and  help  my  workmen  take  care  of  the  dikes  ? "  "  Take  care  of  the 
dikes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  must  and  will."  As  he  appeared  on  the  wall 
the  men  working  there  were  exhausted  and  shouted:  "Here  comes  the  engi- 
neer. Thank  God!  Thank  God!"  The  wall  was  giving  way,  stone  by  stone, 
and  the  engineer  had  a  rope  fastened  around  his  body,  and  some  of  the  work- 
men had  ropes  fastened  around  their  bodies,  and  were  let  down  amid  the  wild 
surges  that  beat  the  wall.  Everything  was  giving  way.  "  More  stones ! "  cried 
the  men.  "  More  mortar !  "  But  the  answer  came :  "  There  is  no  more ! " 
"Then,"  cried  the  engineer,  "take  off  your  clothes,  and  with  them  stop  the 
holes  in  the  wall."  And  so,  in  the  chill  and  darkness  and  surf  it  was  done, 
and  with  the  workmen's  apparel  the  openings  in  the  wall  were  partially  filled. 
But  still  the  tide  rose  and  still  the  ocean  reared  itself  for  more  awful  stroke 
and  for  the  overwhelming  of  thousands  of  lives  in  the  villages.  "  Now  we 
have  done  all  we  can,"  said  the  engineer,  "down  on  your  knees,  my  men,  and 
pray  to  God  for  help."  And  on  the  trembling  and  parting  dikes  they  prayed 
till  the  wind  changed  and  the  sea  subsided,  and  the  villages  below,  which, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  peril,  were  full  of  romp  and  dance  and  hilarity,  were 
gloriously  saved. 

Now,  what  we  want  in  the  work  of  walling  back  the  oceans  of  poverty 
and  drunkenness  and  impurity  and  sin  is  the  help  of  more  womanly  and 
manly  hands.  Oh,  how  the  tides  come  in!  Atlantic  surge  of  sorrow  after 
Atlantic  surge  of  sorrow,  and  the  tempests  of  human  hate  and  Satanic  fury 
are  in  full  cry.  O  woman  of  many  troubles,  what  are  all  the  feasts  of  worldly 
delight,  if  they  were  offered  you,  compared  with  the  opportunity  of  helping  to 
build  and  support  barriers  which  sometimes  seem  giving  way  through  man's 
treachery  and  the  world's  assault?  O  woman,  to  the  dikes!  Bring  .prayer, 
bring  tears,  bring  cheering  words!  Help!  Help!  And  having  done  all,  kneel 
with  us  on  the  quaking  wall  until  the  God  of  the  wind  and  the  sea  shall  hush 
the  one  and  silence  the  other.  To  the  dikes!  Sisters,  mothers,  wives, 
daughters  of  America,  to  the  dikes!  The  mightiest  catholicon  for  all  the 
wounds  and  wrongs  of  woman  or  man  is  complete  absorption  in  the  work  to 
rescue  others.     Save  some  man,  some  woman,  some  child ! 

In  that  effort  you  will  forget  or  be  helped  to  bear  your  own  trials,  and  in 
a  little  while  God  will  take  you  up  out  of  your  disturbed  and  harrowing  con- 
jugal relation  of  earth  into  heaven,  all  the  happier  because  of  preceding  distress. 
When  Queen  Elizabeth  of  England  was  expiring,  it  was  arranged  that  the  exact 
moment  of  her  death  should  be  signalled  to  the  people  by  the  dropping  of  a 
sapphire  ring  from  the  window  into  the  hands  of  an  officer,  who  carried  it  at 
the  top  of  his  speed  to  King  James,  of  Scotland.  But  your  departure  from  the 
scene  of  your  earthly  woes,  if  you  are  ready  to  go,  will  not  be  the  dropping 
of  a  sapphire  to  the  ground,  but  the  setting  of  a  jewel  in  a  king's  coronet. 
Blessed  be  His  glorious  name  forever! 


dominion  of  jFasIjicm. 

THE  RESULTS   OF  TRYING    TO    LEAD   A   FASHIONABLE 

LIFE. 

true  accomplishments  of  life  are  productive  of  effemi- 
nacy or  enervation.  Good  manners  and  a  respect  for 
the  tastes  of  others  are  indispensable.  The  good  Book 
speaks  favorably  of  those  who  are  a  "peculiar" 
people;  but  that  does  not  sanction  the  behavior  of 
queer  people.  There  is  no  excuse,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, for  not  being  and  acting  the  lady  or 
gentleman.  Rudeness  is  sin.  We  have  no  words  too 
ardent  to  express  our  admiration  for  the  refinements 
of  society.  There  is  no  law,  moral  or  divine,  to  forbid 
elegance  of  demeanor,  or  ornaments  of  gold,  or  gems  for 
the  person,  artistic  display. in  the  dwelling,  gracefulness 
of  gait  and  bearing,  polite  salutation  or  honest  .compli- 
ments ;  and  he  who  is  shocked  or  offended  by  these  had 
better,  like  the  old  Scythians,  wear  tiger-skins  and  take  one 
wild  leap  back  into  midnight  barbarism.  As  Christianity 
advances  there  will  be  better  apparel,  higher  styles  of 
architecture,  more  exquisite  adornments,  sweeter  music,, 
grander  pictures,  more  correct  behavior  and  more  thorough  ladies  and 
gentlemen. 

But  there  is  another  story  to  be  told.  Wrong  fashion  is  to  be  charged 
with  many  of  the  worst  evils  of  society,  and  its  path  has  often  been  strewn 
with  the  bodies  of  the  slain.  It  has  often  set  up  a  false  standard  by  which 
people  are  to  be  judged.  Our  common  sense,  as  well  as  all  the  divine  intima- 
tions on  the  subject,  teach  us  that  people  ought  to  be  esteemed  according  to 
their  individual  and  moral  attainments.  The  man  who  has  the  most  nobility 
of  soul  should  be  first,  and  he  who  has  the  least  of  such  qualities  should  stand 
last.  No  crest,  or  shield,  or  escutcheon  can  indicate  one's  moral  peerage. 
Titles  of  Duke,  Lord,  Esquire,  Earl,  Viscount  or  Patrician  ought  not  to  raise 
one  into  the  first  rank.  Some  of  the  meanest  men  I  have  ever  known  had  at 
the  end  of  their  name  D.D.,  LL.D.  and  F.  R.  S. 

Wrong  fashion  is  incompatible  with  happiness.  Those  who  depend  for 
their  comfort  upon  the  admiration    of  others  are  subject  to  frequent  disappoint- 

(109) 


no 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


raent.     Somebody  will  criticise    their  appearance,  or  surpass  them  in  brilliancy, 
or    will    receive    more    attention.     Oh,  the   jealousy,  and    distraction,  and   heart 


A  fair  scythian. — From  the  Painting  by  Hon.  Jno.  Collier. 

burnings  of  those  who  move  in  this'  bewildered  maze!    Poor  butterflies!    Bright 
wings    do    not    always    bring    happiness.     "She   that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  dead 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


in 


while  she  liveth."  The  revelations  of  high  life  that  come  to  the  challenge  and 
the  fight  are  only  the  occasional  croppings  out  of  disquietude  that  are,  under- 
neath, like  the  stars  of  heaven  for  multitude  but  like  the  demons  of  the  pit 
for  hate.  The  misery  that  will  to-night  in  the  cellar  cuddle  up  in  the  straw 
is  not  so  utter  as  the  princely  disquietude  which  stalks  through  splendid 
drawing-rooms,  brooding  over  the  slights  and  offenses  of  luxurious  life.  The 
oitterness  of  life 
seems  not  so  un- 
fitting when 
drunk  out  of  a 
pewter  mug  as 
when  it  pours 
from  the  chased 
lips  of  a  golden 
chalice.  In  the 
sharp  crack  of 
the  voluptuary's 
pistol,  putting  an 
end  to  his  earthly 
misery,  I  hear 
the  confirmation 
that  in  a  hollow, 
fastidious  life 
there  is  no  peace. 
Devotion  to 
wrong  fashion  is 
productive  of 
physical  disease, 
mental  imbecility 
and  spiritual 
withering.  Ap- 
parel insufficient 
lo  keep  out  the 
cold  and  the 
rain,  or  so  fitted 
upon  the  person 
that  the  functions 

of  life  are  restrained ;  late  hours  filled  with  excitement  and  feasting ;  free 
draughts  of  wine  that  make  one  not  beastly  intoxicated,  but  only  fashionably 
drunk,  and  luxurious  indolence  are  the  instruments  by  which  this  unreal  lifa 
pushes  its  disciples  into  valetudinarianism  and  the  grave.  Along  the  walks 
of  prosperous  life  Death  goes  a-mowing — and  such  harvests  as  are  reaped ! 
Materia   Medica    has   been   exhausted   to  find  curatives   for  those   physiological 


FROM   A    DUDE   TO   A    DRUNKARD   AND   VOLUPTUARY. 


112 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


devastations.     Dropsies,  cancers,  consumptions,  gout  and  almost  every  infirmity 
in    all    the    realm    of  pathology  have  been  the  penalties    paid.     To   counteract 


FASHIONS   OF   HEAD   DRESS    AMONG   DIFFERENT    NATIONS   IN   THE   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY. 

the  damage   Pharmacy  has  gone  forth  with  medicament,  panacea,  elixir,  embro- 
cation, salve  and  cataplasm. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  113 

A  wardrobe  is  the  rock  upon  which  many  a  soul  has  been  riven.  The 
excitement  of  a  luxurious  life  has  been  the  vortex  that  has  swallowed  up  more 
souls  than  the  Maelstrom  of  Norway  ever  destroyed  ships.  What  room  for 
elevating  themes  in  a  heart  filled  with  the  trivial  and  unreal  ? 

TUMBLING    INTO    RUIN. 

Who  can  wonder  that  in  this  haste  for  sun-gilded  baubles  and  winged 
thistle-down,  men  and  women  should  tumble  into  ruin  ?  The  travellers  to 
destruction  are  not  all  clothed  in  rags.  Ou  that  road  chariot  jostles  against 
chariot,  and  behind  steeds  in  harness,  golden-plated  and  glittering,  they  go 
down,  coach  and  four,  herald  and  postilion,  racketing  on  the  hot  pavements  of 
hell.  Clear  the  track !  Bazaars  hang  out  their  colors  over  the  road,  and  trees 
of  tropical  fruitfulness  overbranch  the  way.  No  sound  of  woe  disturbs  the  air, 
but  all  is  light,  and  song,  and  wine,  and  gorgeousness.  The  world  comes  out 
to  greet  the  dazzling  procession  with :  "  Hurrah !  Hurrah !  "  But  suddenly 
there  is  a  halt  and  an  outcry  of  dismay,  and  an  overflow  worse  than  the  Red  Sea 
tumbling  upon  the  Egyptians.     Shadow  of  gravestones  upon  finest  silk!    Worm- 


Shakespeare  supported  by  tragedy  and  comedy.—  From  the  Painting  by  Halliday. 

wood  squeezed  into   impearled   goblets !     Death  with   one   cold  breath   withering 
the  leaves  and  freezing  the  fountains. 

In  the  wild    tumult   of  the    last    day — the    mountains    falling,  the    heavens 
flying,  the  thrones  uprising,  the  universe    assembling ;    amid   the    boom    of  the ' 
last  great  thunder-peal,  and  under   the  cracking  of  a  burning  world — what  wvl 
become  of  the  disciple  of  unholy  fashion  ? 

But  watch  the  career  of  one  thoroughly  artificial.  Through  inheritance,  or 
perhaps  his  own  skill,  having  obtained  enough  for  purposes  of  display,  he  feels 
himself  thoroughly  established.  He  sits  aloof  from  the  common  herd,  and  looks 
out  of  his  window  upon  the  poor  man  and  says :  "  Put  that  dirty  wretch  off  my 
steps  immediately  I"  On  Sabbath  days  he  finds  the  church,  but  mourns  the 
fact  that  he  must  worship  with  so  many  of  the  inelegant,  and  says :  "  They  are 
perfectly  awful!"  "That  man  that  you  put  in  my  pew  had  a  coat  on  his  back 
that  did  not  cost  $5.00." 

He  struts  through  life  unsympathetic  with  trouble,  and  says :  "  I  cannot  be 
bothered."      Is  delighted  with  some  doubtful  story  of  Parisian  life,  but    thinks 
8 


U4 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


that  there  are  some  very  indecent  things  in  the  Bible.  Walks  arm  in  arm 
with  the  successful  man  of  the  world,  but  does  not  know  his  own  brother. 
Loves  to  be  praised  for  his  splendid  house,  and  when  told  that  he  looks 
younger  than  ten  years  ago,  says:  "Well,  really,  do  you  think  so?" 

But  the  brief  strut  of  his  life  is  about  over.(  Up-stairs,  he  dies.  No  angel 
wings  hovering  about  him.  No  gospel  promises  kindling  up  the  darkness ; 
but  exquisite   embroidery,  elegant   pictures  and  a  bust   of  Shakespeare   on   the 

^^^^^^  mantel.      The  pulses 

-^^  ^^-  stop.      The    minister 

comes  in  to  read  of 
the  Resurrection,  that 
day  when  the  dead 
shall  come  up — both 
he  that  died  on  the 
floor  and  he  that  ex- 
pired under  princely 
upholstery.  He  is 
carried  out  to  burial. 
Only  a  few  mourners, 
but  a  great  array  of 
carriages.  Not  one 
common  man  at  the 
funeral.  No  be- 
friended orphan  to 
weep  a  tear  on  his 
grave.  No  child  of 
want  pressing 
through  the  ranks  of 
the  weeping,  saying : 
"  He  is  the  last  friend 
I  have  and  I  must 
see  him." 

What  now  ?  He 
was  a  great  man. 
Shall  not  chariots  of 
salvation  come  down 

i.v  memoriam  of  sarah  comstock. —  Terra  Cotta  by  T.  N.  McLean.  to    the   Otner    Slue    Ol 

the  Jordan  and  escort 
him  up  to  the  palace?  Shall  not  the  angels  exclaim:  "Turn  out!  A  prince 
is  coming"?  Will  the  bells  chime?  Will  there  be  harpers  with  their  harps 
and  trumpeters  with  their  trumpets  ? 

No!  no!  no!  There  will  be  a  shudder,  as  though  a  calamity  had  happened. 
Standing  on   heaven's  battlements,  a  watchman  will  see  something  shoot  past, 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  115 

with    fiery  downfall    and  shriek:    "Wandering   star — for  whom  is   reserved  the 
blackness  of  darkness  forever!" 

CLOSE  OF  A   LIFE  OF  FASHION. 

But  sadder  yet  is  the  closing  of  a  woman's  life  that  has  been  worshipful 
of  worldliness,  all  the  wealth  of  a  lifetime's  opportunity  wasted.  What  a 
tragedy.  A  woman  on  her  dying  pillow,  thinking  of  what  she  might  have 
done  for  God  and  humanity,  and  yet  having  done  nothing.  Compare  her  demise 
with  that  of  a  Harriet  Newell,  going  down  to  die  peacefully  in  the  Isle  of 
France,  reviewing  her  lifetime  sacrifices  for  the  redemption  of  India ;  or  the  last 
hours  of  Elizabeth  Hervey,  having  exchanged  her  bright  New  England  home 
for  a  life  at  Bombay  amid  stolid  heathenism,  that  she  might  illumine  it,  say- 
ing, in  her  last  moments:  "If  this  is  the  dark  valley,  it  has  not  a  dark  spot 
in  it;  all  is  light,  light!"  or  the  exit  of  Mrs.  Lennox,  falling  under  sudden 
disease  at  Smyrna,  breathing  out  her  soul  with  the  last  words:  "Oh,  how 
happy !"  or  the  departure  of  Mrs.  Sarah  D.  Comstock,  spending  her  life  for  the 
salvation  of  Burmah,  giving  up  her  children  that  they  might  come  home  to 
America  to  be  educated,  and  saying  as  she  kissed  them  good-bye,  never  to  see 
them  again:  "O  Jesus,  I  do  this  for  Thee!"  or  the  going  of  10,000  good 
vomen,  who  in  less  resounding  spheres  have  lived  not  for  themselves,  but  for 
Jod  and  the  alleviation  of  human  suffering.  That  was  a  brilliant  scene  when, 
in  1485,  in  the  campaign  for  the  capture  of  Ronda,  Queen  Elizabeth,  of  Castile, 
on  horseback,  side  by  side  with  King  Ferdinand,  rode  out  to  review  the  troops. 
As  she  in  bright  armor  rode  along  the  lines  of  the  Spanish  host,  and  waved 
her  jewelled  hand  to  the  warriors,  and  ever  and  anon  uttered  words  of  cheer  to 
the  worn  veterans  who,  far  away  from  their  homes,  were  risking  their  lives  for 
the  kingdom,  it  was  a  spectacle  that  illumines  history.  But  more  glorious  will 
be  the  scene  when  that  consecrated  Christian  woman,  crowned  in  heaven,  shall 
review  the  souls  that  on  earth  she  clothed,  and  fed,  and  medicined,  and  evan- 
gelized, and  then  introduced  into  the  ranks  celestial.  As  on  the  white  horse 
of  victory,  side  by  side  with  the  King,  this  queen  unto  God  forever  shall  ride 
past  the  lines  of  those  in  whose  salvation  she  bore  a  part,  the  scene  will  sur- 
pass anything  ever  witnessed  on  earth  in  the  life  of  Joan  of  Arc,  or  Penelope, 
or  Semiramis.  or  Aspasia,  or  Marianne,  or  Margaret  of  Anjou.     Ride  on,  victor! 


&o  tfje  jpemale  STeactjer. 

A  LESSON   FROM   AHASUERUS'S   BEAUTIFUL 
BUT   MODEST   QUEEN. 

CCEPT  my  arm,  and  I  will  escort  you  into  a 
throne  room.  We  stand  amid  the  palaces  of 
Shushan.  The  pinnacles  are  aflame  with  the 
morning  light.  The  columns  rise  festooned  and 
wreathed,  the  wealth  of  empires  flashing  from 
the  grooves :  the  ceilings  adorned  with 
images  of  bird  and  beast,  and  scenes  of 
prowess  and  conquest.  The  walls  are  hung 
with  shields  and  emblazoned  until  it  seems 
that  the  whole  round  of  splendors  is  ex- 
hausted. Each  arch  is  a  mighty  leap  of  archi- 
tectural achievement.  Golden  stars,  shining  down 
on  glowing  arabesque.  Hangings  of  embroidered 
work,  in  which  mingle  the  blueness  of  the  sky,  the 
greenness  of  the  grass,  and  the  whiteness  of  the  sea- 
foam.  Tapestries  hung  on  silver  rings,  wedding  together 
the  pillars  of  marble.  Pavilions  reaching  out  in  every 
direction.  These  for  repose,  filled  with  luxuriant  couches, 
in  which  weary  limbs  sink  until  all  fatigue  is  sub- 
merged. These  for  carousal,  where  kings  drink  down  a 
kingdom  at  one  swallow.  Amazing  spectacle!  Light  of 
silver  dripping  down  over  stairs  of  ivory  on  shields  of 
gold.  Floors  of  stained  marble,  sunset  red  and  night 
black,  and  inlaid  with  gleaming  pearl.  Why,  it  seems  as  if  a  heavenly 
vision  of  amethyst,  and  jacinth,  and  topaz,  and  chrysoprasus  had  descended  and 
alighted  upon  Shushan.  It  seems  as  if  a  billow  of  celestial  glory  had  dashed 
clear  over  heaven's  battlements  upon  this  metropolis  of  Persia.  In  connection 
with  this  palace  there  is  a  garden,  where  the  mighty  men  of  foreign  lands 
are  seated  at  a  banquet. ,  Under  the  spread  of  oak,  and  linden,  and  acacia,  the 
tables  are  arranged.  The  breath  of  honeysuckle  and  frankincense  fills  the  air. 
Fountains  leap  up  into  the  light,  the  spray  struck  through  with  rainbows  falling 
in  crystalline  baptism  upon  flowering  shrubs,  then  rolling  down  through  chan- 
nels  of  marble,  and  widening   out   here  and  there  into  pools  swirling  with  the 

(116) 


THE   FEAST  OF   AHASUERUS. 


(ii7) 


n8 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


finny  tribes  of  foreign  aquariums,  bordered  with  scarlet  anemonies,  hypericums 
and  many-colored  ranunculus.  Meats  of  rarest  bird  and  beast  smoking  up  amid 
wreaths  of  aromatics.  The  vases  filled  with  apricots  and  almonds.  The  baskets 
piled  up  with  apples  and  dates,  and  figs,  and  oranges,  and  pomegranates. 
Melons  tastefully  twined  with  leaves  of  acacia.  The  bright  waters  of  Eulaeus 
filling  the  urns,  and  sweating  outside  the  rim  in  flashing  beads  amid  the  trace- 
ries. Wine  from  the  royal  vats  of  Ispahan  and  Shiraz,  in  bottles  of  iridescent 
shell,  and  lily-shaped  cups  of  silver,  and  flagons  and  tankards  of  solid  gold. 
The  music  rises  higher,  and  the  revelry  breaks  cut  into  wilder  transport,  and 
;the  wine  has  flushed  the  cheek  and  touched  the  brain,  and  louder  than  all  other 
voices  are  the  hiccough  of  the  inebriates,  the  gabble  of  fools,  and  the  song  of 

the  drunkard. 

In  another  part  of  the  pal- 
ace, Queen  Vashti  is  entertain- 
ing the  princesses  of  Persia  at 
a  banquet.  Drunken  Ahasuerus 
says  to  his  servants:  "You  go 
out  and  fetch  Vashti  from  the 
banquet  with  the  women  and 
bring  her  to  this  banquet  with 
the.  men,  and  let  her  display  her 
beauty."  The  servants  imme- 
diately start  to  obey  the  king's 
command,  but  there  was  a  rule 
in  Oriental  society  that  no 
woman  might  appear  in  public 
without  having  her  face  veiled. 
esther  receiving  the  sceptre  from  ahasuerus.  Yet    here   was   a   mandate   that 

&o  one  dare  dispute,  demanding  that  Vashti  come  in  unveiled,  before  the  mul- 
titude. However,  there  was  in  Vashti's  soul  a  principle  more  regal  than  Aha- 
suerus, more  brilliant  than  the  gold  of  Shushan,  of  more  wealth  than  the 
realm  of  Persia,  which  commanded  her.  to  disobey  this  order  of  the  king ; 
and  so  all  the  righteousness,  and  holiness  and  modesty  of  her  nature  rises  up 
into  sublime  refusal.  She  says:  "I  will  not  go  into  the  banquet  unveiled." 
Of  course  Ahasuerus  was  infuriate ;  and  Vashti,  robbed  of  her  position  and  her 
estate,  is  driven  forth  in  poverty  and  ruin  to  suffer  the  scorn  of  a  nation, 
and  yet  to  receive  the  applause  of  after  generations  who  shall  rise  up  to  admire 
this  martyr  to  kingly  insolence.  Well,  the  last  vestige  of  that  feast  is  gone; 
the  last  garland  has  faded;  the  last  arch  has  fallen;  the  last  tankard  has  been 
destroyed,  and  Shushan  is  a  ruin;  but  as  long  as  the  world  stands  there  will 
be  multitudes  of  men  and  women,  familiar  with  the  Bible,  who  will  come  into 
this  picture  gallery  of  God  and  admire  the  divine  portrait  of  Vashti  the 
queen,    Vashti    the   veiled,    Vashti    the   sacrifice,    Vashti    the    silent.      Though 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  119 

her  place  was  surrendered  to  Esther,  yet  she  lives  clothed  in  more  royal 
raiment  than  any  earthly  king  could  provide,  with  a  coronet  more  dazzling 
than  all  Persia  could  purchase,  decked  now  in  robes  and  diadems  such  as 
God  reserves  for  righteous  womanhood. 

I  want  you  to  look  upon  Vashti,  the  queen.  A  blue  ribbon,  rayed  with 
white,  drawn  around  her  forehead,  indicating  her  queenly  position.  It  was  no 
small  honor  to  be  the  queen  in  such  a  realm  as  that.  Hark  to  the  rustle  of 
her  robes !  See  the  blaze  of  her  jewels !  And  yet  it  is  not  necessary  to  have 
palace  and  regal  robe  in  order  to  be  queenly.  When  I  see  a  woman  with  stout 
faith  in  God,  putting  her  foot  upon  all  meanness  and  selfishness  and  godless  dis- 
play, going  right  forward  to  serve  Christ  and  the  race  by  a  grand  and  glorious 
service,  I  say,  "That  woman  is  a  queen,"  and  the  ranks  of  heaven  look  over  the 
battlements  upon  the  coronation,  and  whether  she  come  up  from  the  shanty  on  the 
commons  or  the  mansion  of  the  fashionable  square,  I  greet  her  with  the  shout " 
"All  hail !  Queen  Vashti."  What  glory  was  there  on  the  brow  of  Mary,  of  Scot- 
land; or  Elizabeth,  of  England;  or  Margaret,  of  France;  or  Catharine,  of  Russia, 
compared  with  the  worth  of  some  of  our  Christian  mothers,  many  of  them  gone 
into  glory  ?  Or  of  that  woman  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures  who  put  her  all 
into  the  Lord's  treasury?  Or  of  Jephthah's  daughter,  who  made  a  demonstra- 
tion of  unselfish  patriotism  ?  Or  of  Abigail,  who  rescued  the  herds  and  flocks 
of  her  husband  ?  Or  of  Ruth,  who  toiled  under  a  tropical  sun  for  poor,  old, 
helpless  Naomi  ?  Or  of  Mrs.  Adoniram  Judson,  who  kindled  the  lights  of  sal- 
vation amid  the  darkness  of  Burmah  ?  Or  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  who  poured  out 
her  holy  soul  in  words  which  will  forever  be  associated  with  hunter's  horn  and 
captive's  chain,  and  bridal  hour,  and  lute's  throb,  and  curfew's  knell  at  the 
dying  day  ?  And  scores  and  hundreds  of  women,  unknown  on  earth,  who  have 
given  water  to  the  thirsty,  and  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  medicine  to  the  sick, 
and  smiles  to  the  discouraged — their  footsteps  heard  along  dark  lane,  and  in 
government  hospital,  and  in  almshouse  corridor,  and  by  prison  gate  ?  There 
may  be  no  royal  robe  ;  there  may  be  no  palatial  surroundings.  She  does  not 
need  them,  for  all  charitable  men  will  unite  with  the  cracking  lips  of  fever- 
struck  hospital  and  plague-blotched  lazaretto  in  greeting  her  as  she  passes  : 
"  Hail !  Hail  1   Queen  Vashti." 

A   TRIBUTE   TO  FEMALE  TEACHERS. 

Among  the  queens  whom  I  honor  are  the  female  day-school  teachers  of 
this  land.  I  put  upon  their  brow  the  coronet.  They  are  the  sisters  and 
the  daughters  of  our  towns  and  cities,  selected  out  of  a  vast  number  of  appli- 
cants, because  of  their  especial  intellectual  and  moral  endowments.  There  are 
m  none  of  your  homes  women  more  worthy.  These  persons,  some  of  them, 
come  out  from  affluent  homes,  choosing  teaching  as  a  useful  profession  ;  others, 
finding  that  father  is  older  than  he  used  to  be,  and  that  his  eye-sight  and 
strength  are   not   as   good   as  once,  go  to  teaching  to  lighten  his  load.       But  I 


120 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


tell  you  the  history  of  the  majority  of  the  female  teachers  in  the  public  schools 
when  I  say,  "  Father  is  dead."  After  the  estate  was  settled  the  family,  that 
were  comfortable  before,  are  thrown  on  their  own  resources. 

It  is  hard  for  men  to  earn  a  living  in  this  day,  but  it  is  harder  for  women — 
their  health  not  so  rugged,  their  arm  not  so  strong,  their  opportunities  fewer. 
These  persons,  after  tremblingly  going  through  the  ordeal  of  an  examination 
as  to  their  qualifications  to  teach,  half-bewildered  step  over  the  sill  of  the  public 


MEETING  OF  THE  TRUSTEES  OF  A  BACK  SETTLEMENT  SCHOOL— EXAMINING  THE  TEACHER.—  By  Robert  Harris. 

school  to  do  two  things — instruct  the  young  and  earn  their  own  bread.  Her 
work  is  wearing  to  the  last  degree.  The  management  of  forty  or  fifty  fidgety 
and  intractable  children,  the  suppression  of  their  vices  and  the  development  of 
their  excellences,  the  management  of  rewards  and  punishments,  the  sending  of 
so  many  bars  of  soap  and  fine  tooth  combs  on  benignant  ministry,  the  breaking 
of  so  many  wild  colts  for   the    harness  of    life,  sends    her  home  at  night  weak, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  121 

neuralgic,  unstrung,  so  that  of  all  the  weary  people  in  your  cities  for  five  nights 
of  the  week  there  are  none  more  weary  than  the  public  school  teachers.  Now, 
for  God's  sake,  give  them  a  fair  chance.  Throw  no  obstacles  in  the  way.  If 
they  come  out  ahead  in  the  race,  cheer  them.  If  you  want  to  smite  any,  smite 
the  male  teachers :  they  can  take  up  the  cudgels  for  themselves.  But  keep 
your  hands  off  of  defenceless  women.  Father  may  be  dead,  but  there  are  enough 
brothers  left  to  demand  and  see  that  they  get  justice. 

Within  a  stone's  throw  of  where  I  now  write  there  died,  years  ago,  one  of 
the  principals  of  our  public  schools.  She  had  been  twenty-five  years  at  that 
post.  She  had  left  the  touch  of  refinement  on  a  multitude  of  the  young.  She 
had,  out  of  her  slender  purse,  given  literally  thousands  of  dollars  for  the  desti- 
tute who  came  under  her  observation  as  a  school  teacher.  A  deceased  sister's 
children  were  thrown  upon  her  hands,  and  she  took  care  of  them.  She  was  a 
kind  mother  to  them,  while  she  mothered  a  whole  school.  Worn  out  with 
nursing  in  the  sick  and  dying  room  of  one  of  her  household,  she  herself  came 
to  die.  She  closed  the  school  book  and  at  the  same  time  the  volume  of  her 
Christian  fidelity ;  and  when  she  went  through  the  gates  they  cried :  "  These 
are  they  who  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  had  their  robes  washed  and 
made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

Queens  are  all  such,  and  whether  the  world  acknowledge  them  or  not 
heaven  acknowledges  them. 

When  Scarron,  the  wit  and  ecclesiastic,  as  poor  as  he  was  brilliant,  was 
about  to  marry  Madame  de  Maintenon,  he  was  asked  by  the  notary  what  he 
proposed  to  settle  upon  Mademoiselle.  The  reply  was  :  "  Immortality  !  The 
names  of  the  wives  of  kings  die  with  them  :  the  name  of  the  wife  of  Scarron 
will  live  always." 

In  a  higher  and  better  sense,  upon  all  women  who  do  their  duty  to  God 
will  settle  immortality.  Not  the  immortality  of  earthly  fame,  which  is  mortal, 
but  the  immortality  celestial.     And  they  shall  reign  forever  and  ever. 

GOETHE  AND   SHAKESPEARE'S  IDEAS  OF  WOMEN. 

Oh!  the  opportunity  which  every  woman  has  of  being  a  queen.  The 
longer  I  live  the  more  I  admire  good  womanhood.  And  I  have  come  to  form 
my  opinion  of  the  character  of  a  man  by  his  appreciation  or  non-appreciation 
of  woman.  If  a  man  have  a  depressed  idea  of  womanly  character  he  is  a  bad 
man,  and  there  is  no  exception  to  the  rule.  The  writings  of  Goethe  can  never 
have  any  such  attractions  for  me  as  Shakespeare,  because  nearly  all  the 
womanly  characters  of  the  great  German  have  some  kind  of  turpitude.  There 
is  his  Mariana,  with  her  clandestine  scheming;  and  his  Mignon,  of  evil  parent- 
age, yet  worse  than  her  ancestors;  and  his  Theresa,  the  brazen;  and  his 
Aurelia,  of  many  intrigues;  and  his  Philina,  the  termagant;  and  his  Melina, 
the  tarnished ;  and  his  Baroness  and  his  Countess,  and  there  is  seldom  a 
womanly  character   in    all   his   voluminous    writings    that   would   be   worthy   of 


132) 


From  the  Statue  by  Mario  Roggi. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  123 

residence  in  a  respectable  coal  cellar,  yet  pictured  and  dramatized  and  embla- 
zoned till  all  the  literary  world  is  compelled  to  see.  No,  no.  Give  me  Wil- 
liam Shakespeare's  idea  of  woman,  and  I  see  it  in  Desdemona,  and  Cordelia, 
and  Rosalind,  and  Imogen,  and  Helena,  and  Hermione,  and  Viola,  and  Isabella, 
and  Sylvia,  and  Perdita,  all  of  them  with  enough  faults  to  prove  them  human, 
but  enough  kindly  characteristics  to  give  us  the  author's  idea  of  womanhood, 
his  Lady  Macbeth  only  a  dark  background  to  bring  out  the  supreme  loveliness 
of  his  other  female  characters. 

I  want  you  to  consider  Vashti,  the  veiled.  Had  she  appeared  before 
Ahasuerus  and  his  court  on  that  day  with  her  face  uncovered,  she  would  have 
shocked  all  the  delicacies  of  Oriental  society,  and  the  very  men  who  in  their 
intoxication  demanded  that  she  come,  in  their  sober  moments  would  have 
despised  her.  As  some  flowers  seem  to  thrive  best  in  the  dark  lane  and  in 
the  shadow,  and  where  the  sun  does  not  seem  to  reach  them,  so  God  appoints 
to  most  womanly  natures  a  retiring  and  unobtrusive  spirit.  God  once  in  a 
while  does  call  an  Isabella  to  a  throne,  or  a  Miriam  to  strike  the  timbrel  at  the 
front  of  a  host,  or  a  Marie  Antoinette  to  quell  a  French  mob,  or  a  Deborah 
to  stand  at  the  front  of  an  armed  battalion,  crying  out,  "  Up !  up !  this  is  the 
day  in  which  the  Lord  will  deliver  Sisera  into  thy  hands."  And  when  women 
are  called  to  such  out-door  work,  and  to  such  heroic  positions,  God  prepares 
them  for  it ;  and  they  have  iron  in  their  soul,  and  lightnings  in  their  eye,  and 
whirlwinds  in  their  breath,  and  the  borrowed  strength  of  the  Lord  omnipotent 
in  their  right  arm.  They  walk  through  furnaces  as  though  they  were  hedges 
of  wild  flowers,  and  cross  seas  as  though  they  were  shimmering  sapphire,  and 
all  the  harpies  of  hell  sink  down  to  their  dungeons  at  the  stamp  of  their 
womanly  indignation.  But  these  are  exceptions.  Generally,  Dorcas  would 
rather  make  a  garment  for  the  poor  boy,  Rebecca  would  rather  fill  the  trough 
for  the  camels,  Hannah  would  rather  make  a  coat  for  Samuel,  the  Hebrew 
maid  would  rather  give  a  prescription  for  Naaman's  leprosy,  the  woman  of 
Sarepta  would  rather  gather  a  few  sticks  to  cook  a  meal  for  famished  Elijah, 
Phebe  would  rather  carry  a  letter  for  the  inspired  apostle,  Mother  Lois  would 
rather  educate  Timothy  in  the  Scriptures.  When  I  see  a  woman  going  about 
her  daily  duty — with  cheerful  dignity  presiding  at  the  table,  with  kind  and 
gentle,  but  firm,  discipline,  presiding  in  the  nursery,  going  out  into  the  world 
without  any  blast  of  trumpets,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Him  who  went 
about  doing  good — -I  say,  "This  is  Vashti  with  a  veil  on."  But  when  I  see  a 
woman  of  unblushing  boldness,  loud-voiced,  with  a  tongue  of  infinite  clitter- 
clatter,  with  arrogant  look,  passing  through  the  streets  with  a  masculine  swing, 
gaily  arrayed  in  a  very  hurricane  of  millinery,  I  cry  out,  "Vashti  has  lost  her 
veil."  When  I  see  a  woman  struggling  for  political  preferment,  and  rejecting 
the  duties  of  home  as  insignificant,  and  thinking  the  offices  of  wife,  mother, 
and  daughter  of  no  importance,  and  trying  to  force  her  way  on  up  into  con- 
-picuity,  I  say,  "Ah!  what  a  pity;    Vashti   has  lost  her  veil."     When   I   see   a 


124 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


woman  of  comely  features,  and  of  adroitness  of  intellect,  and  endowed  with  all 
that  the  schools  can  do  for  her,  and  of  high  social  position,  yet  moving  in 
society  with  superciliousness  and  hauteur,  as  though  she  would  have  people 
know  their  place,  and  an  undefined  combination  of  giggle,  and  strut,  and  rodo- 
montade, endowed  with  allopathic  quantities  of  self,  but  only  homoeopathic 
infinitesimals  of  sense,  the  terror  of  dry-goods  clerks  and  railroad  conductors, 
discoverer  of  significant  meanings  in  plain  conversation,  a  prodigy  of  badness 
and  innuendoes — I  say,  "  Vashti  has  lost  her  veil." 

But  do  not  mis- 
interpret what  I  say 
into  a  depreciation 
of  the  work  of  those 
glorious  and  divinely 
called  women  who 
will  not  be  under- 
stood till  after  they 
are  dead ;  women  like 
Susan  B.  Anthony, 
who  are  giving  their 
life  for  the  better- 
ment of  the  condi- 
tion of  their  sex. 
Those  of  you  who 
think  that  women 
have,  under  the  laws 
of  this  country,  an 
equal  chance  with 
men,  are  ignorant  of 
the  laws.  A  gentle- 
man writes  me  from 
Maryland,  saying: 
"Take  the  laws  of 
this  State.  A  man 
and  wife  start  out  in 
life  full  of  hope  in 
every  respect;  by 
their    joint    efforts, 


MRS.  siddons  as  the  muse  of  tragedy.  —From  Painting  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 


and,  as  is  frequently  the  case,  through  the  economic  ideas  of  the  wife,  succeed 
in  accumulating  a  fortune,  but  they  have  no  children  ;  they  reach  old  age  to- 
gether, and  then  the  husband  dies.  What  does  the  law  of  this  State  do  then? 
It  says  to  the  widow,  Hands  off  your  late  husband's  property,  do  not  touch 
it,  the  State  will  find  others  to  whom  it  will  give  that;  but  you,  the  widow, 
must  not  touch    it,  only  so   much    as  will    keep    life    in    your   aged    bod}',    that 


victims  OF  the  French  revolution.—  Painted  by  Paul  Svedonesky. 


("5) 


126 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


you  may  live  to  see  those  others  enjoy  what  rightly  should  be  your  own." 
And  the  State  seeks  the  relatives  of  the  deceased  husband,  whether  they  be 
near  or  far,  whether  they  were  ever  heard  of  before  or  not,  and  transfers  to 
them,  singly  or  collectively,  the  estate  of  the  deceased  husband  and  living 
widow. 

Now,  that  is  a  specimen  of  the  unjust  laws  in  all  States  concerning 
womanhood.  Instead  of  flying  off  to  the  discussion  as  to  whether  or  not  the 
giving  of  the  right  of  voting  to  women  will  correct  these  laws,  let  me  say  to 
men,  be  gallant  enough,  and  fair  enough,  and  honest  enough,  and  righteous 
enough,  and  God-loving  enough  to  correct  these  wrongs  against  women  by 
your  own  masculine  vote.     Do  not  wait  for  woman  suffrage  to  come,  if  it  ever 


VASHTI,    THE    OUTCAST. 


does  come,  but  so  far  as  you  can  touch  ballot-boxes,  and  legislatures,  and 
congresses,  begin  the  reformation;  but  until  justice  is  done  to  the  sex  by 
the  laws  of  all  the  States,  let  women  of  America  take  the  platforms  and  the 
pulpits,  and  no  honorable  man  will  charge  Vashti  with  having  lost  her  veil. 

Again,  I  want  you  to  consider  Vashti,  the  sacrifice.  Who  is  this  that  I 
see  coming  out  of  that  palace  gate  of  Shushan  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have 
seen  her  before.  She  comes  homeless,  houseless,  friendless,  trudging  along 
with  a  broken  heart.  Who  is  she?  It  is  Vashti,  the  sacrifice.  Oh,  what  a 
change  it  was  from  regal  position  to  a  wayfarer's  crust.  A  little  while  ago 
approved  and  sought  for;    now  none   so   poor   as   to  acknowledge  her  acquaint- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  127 

anceship.  Vashti,  the  sacrifice.  Ah,  you  and  I  have  seen  it  many  a  time. 
Here  is  a  home  empalaced  with  beauty.  All  that  refinement,  and  books,  and 
wealth  can  do  for  that  home  has  been  done ;  but  Ahasuerus,  the  husband  and 
the  father,  is  taking  hold  on  paths  of  sin.  He  is  gradually  going  down. 
After  a  time  he  will  flounder  and  struggle  like  a  wild  beast  in  the  hunter's 
net — further  away  from  God,  further  away  from  the  right.  Soon  the  bright 
apparel  of  the  children  will  turn  to  rags  ;  soon  the  household  song  will  become 
the  sobbing  of  a  broken  heart.  The  old  story  over  again.  Brutal  Centaurs 
breaking  up  the  marriage  feast  of  Lapithae.  The  house  full  of  outrage,  and 
cruelty  and  abomination,  while  trudging  forth  from  the  palace  gate  are  Vashti 
and  her  children.  O  Ahasuerus,  that  you  should  stand  in  a  home,  by  a 
dissipated  life  destroying  the  peace  and  comfort  of  that  home.  God  forbid  that 
your  children  should  ever  have  to  ring  their  hands,  and  have  people  point 
their  finger  at  them,  as  they  pass  down  the  street  and  say,  "  There  goes  a 
drunkard's  child."  God  forbid  that  the  little  feet  should  ever  have  to  trudge 
the  path  of  poverty  and  wretchedness.  God  forbid  that  any  evil  spirit,  born 
of  the  wine  cup  or  the  brandy  flask,  should  come  forth  and  uproot  that  garden, 
and,  with  a  blasting,  blistering,  all-consuming  curse,  shut  forever  the  palace 
gate  against  Vashti  and  the  children. 

Oh,  the  women  and  the  men  of  sacrifice  are  going  to  take  the  brightest 
coronals  of  heaven.  This  woman  gave  up  a  palatial  residence,  gave  up  all  for 
what  she  considered  right.     Sacrifice !     Is  there  anything  more  sublime  ? 

MARTYRS    TO    DUTY. 

A  steamer,  called  the  Prairie  Belle,  burning  on  the  Mississippi  River, 
Bludso,  the  engineer,  declared  he  would  keep  the  bow  of  the  boat  to  the  shore 
till  all  were  off,  and  he  kept  his  promise.  At  his  post,  scorched  and  blackened, 
he  perished,  but  he  saved  all  the  passengers.  Two  verses  of  pathetic  poetry 
describe  the  scene,  but  the  verses  are  a   little  rough,  and  so  I  changed  a  word 

or  two: 

Through  the  hot,  black  breath  of  the  burning 

Jim  Bludso's  voice  was  heard, 
And  they  all  had  trust  in  his  stubbornness, 

And  knew  he  would  keep  his  word. 
And  sure's  you're  born,  they  all  got  off 

Afore  the  smoke-stacks  fell ; 
And  Bludso's  ghost  went  up  above 

In  the  smoke  of  the  Prairie  Belle. 

He  weren't  no  saint,  but  at  Judgment 

I'd  run  my  chance  with  Jim 
'Longside  of  some  pious  gentlemen 

That  wouldn't  shake  hands  with  him. 
He'd  seen  his  duty,  a  dead  sure  thing, 

And  went  for  it  there  and  then, 
And  Christ  is  not  going  to  be  too  hard 

On  a  man  that  died  for  men. 


128 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


I  want  yon  to  look  at  Vashti  the  silent.  You  do  not  hear  any  outcry 
from  this  woman  as  she  goes  forth  from  the  palace  gate.  From  the  very 
dignity  of  her  nature  you  know  there  will  be  no  vociferation.  Sometimes  in 
life  it  is  necessary  to  make  a  retort;  sometimes  in  life  it  is  necessary  to 
resist;    but  there  are  crises  when  the  most   triumphant   thing  to  do  is  to  keep 

silence.  The  philoso- 
pher, confident  in  his 
newly-discovered  prin- 
ciple, waited  for  the 
coming  of  more  intelli- 
gent generations,  will- 
ing that  men  should 
laugh  at  the  lightning 
rod  and  cotton  gin  and 
steamboat — waiting  for 
long  years  through  the 
scoffing  of  philosophi- 
cal schools,  in  grand  and 
magnificent  silence. 
Galileo,  condemned  by 
mathematicians,  and 
monks,  and  cardinals; 
caricatured  every- 
where, yet  waiting  and 
watching  with  his  tele- 
scope to  see  the  coming 
up  of  stellar  re-enforce- 
ments, when  the  stars 
in  their  courses  would 
fight  for  the  Copernican 
system ;  then  sitting 
down  in  complete  blind- 
ness and  deafness  to 
wait  for  the  coming  on 
of  the  generations  who 
would  build  his  monu- 
ment and  bow  at  his 
grave.  The  reformer, 
execrated  by  his  contemporaries,  fastened  in  a  pillory,  the  slow  fires  of  public 
contempt  burning  under  him,  ground  under  the  cylinders  of  the  printing 
press,  yet  calmly  waiting  for  the  day  when  purity  of  soul  and  heroism  of  char- 
acter will  get  the  sanction  of  earth  and  the  plaudits  of  heaven.  Affliction, 
enduring    without   any   complaint  the   sharpness  of  the  pang,  and  the  violence 


THE  GUARDIAN  ANGEL. 


(129) 


i3o  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

of  the  storm,  and  the  heft  of  the  chain,  and  the  darkness  of  the  night- 
waiting  until  a  divine  hand  shall  be  put  forth  to  soothe  the  pang,  and  hush 
the  storm,  and  release  the  captive.  A  wife  abused,  persecuted,  ard  a  per- 
petual exile  from  every  earthly  comfort — waiting,  waiting,  until  the  Lord 
shall  gather  up  His  dear  children  in  a  heavenly  home,  and  no  poor  Vashti 
will  ever  be  thrust  out  from  the  palace  gate.  'Jesus,  in  silence,  and  answer- 
ing not  a  word,  drinking  the  gall,  bearing  the  cross,  in  prospect  of  the  raptur- 
ous consummation  when 

Angels  thronged  his  chariot  wheel, 

And  bore  him  to  his  throne ; 
Then  swept  their  golden  harps  and  sung, — 

"The  glorious  work  is  done." 

An  Arctic  explorer  found  a  ship  floating  helplessly  about  among  the  ice- 
bergs, and  going  on  board  he  found  that  the  captain  was  frozen  at  his  log 
book,  and  the  helmsman  was  frozen  at  the  wheel,  and  the  men  on  the  lookout 
were  frozen  in  their  places.  That  was  awful,  but  magnificent.  All  the  Arctic 
blasts  and  all  the  icebergs  could  not  drive  thejn  from  their  duty.  Their  silence 
was  louder  than  thunder.  And  this  old  ship  of  a  world  has  many  at  their 
posts  in  the  awful  chill  of  neglect,  and  frozen  of  the  world's  scorn,  and  their 
silence  shall  be  the  eulogy  of  the  skies,  and  be  rewarded  long,  after  this 
weather-beaten  craft  of  a  planet  shall  have  made  its  last  voyage. 

I  thank  God  that  the  mightiest  influences  are  the  most  silent.  The  fires 
in  a  furnace  of  a  factory,  or  of  a  steamship,  roar,  though  they  only  move  a 
few  shuttles  or  a  few  thousand  tons;  but  the  sun  that  warms  a  world  rises  and 
sets  without  a  crackle,  or  the  faintest  sound.  Travellers  visiting  Mount  iEtna, 
having  heard  of  the  glories  of  sunrise  on  that  peak,  went  up  to  spend  the  night 
there  and  see  the  sun  rise  next  morning ;  but  when  it  came  up  it  was  so  far 
behind  their  anticipations  they  actually  hissed  it.  The  mightiest  influences 
to-day  are  like  the  planetary  system — completely  silent.     Don't  hiss  the  sun ! 

O  woman !  does  not  this  story  of  Vashti  the  queen,  Vashti  the  veiled, 
Vashti  the  sacrifice,  Vashti  the  silent,  move  your  soul? 

When  Rome  was  besieged,  the  daughter  of  its  ruler  saw  the  golden  brace- 
lets on  the  left  arms  of  the  enemy,  and  she  sent  word  to  them  that  she  would 
betray  her  city  and  surrender  it  to  them  if  they  would  only  give  her  those 
bracelets  on  their  left  arms.  They  accepted  the  proffer,  and  by  night  this 
daughter  of  the  ruler  of  the  city  opened  one  of  the  gates.  The  army  entered, 
and,  keeping  their  promise,  threw  upon  her  their  bracelets,  and  also  their 
shields,  until  under  their  weight  she  died.  Alas,  that  all  through  the  ages  the 
same  folly  has  been  repeated,  and  for  the  trinkets  and  glittering  treasures  of 
this  world,  men  and  women  swing  open  the  portals  of  their  immortal  soul  for 
an  everlasting  surrender,  and  die  under  the  shining  submergement. 

Through  the  rich  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  may  you  be  enabled  to 
imitate  the  example  of  Rachael,  and  Hannah,  and  Abigail,  and  Deborah,  and 
Mary,  and  Vashti. 


&f)ab  anb  Jrjfbel. 


THE   POWER  OF   A   WIFE  OVER   HER    HUSBAND,   AND    HOW 
IT    SHOULD    BE    EMPLOYED. 


day  King  Ahab,  looking  out  of  the  window  of  his 
palace  at  Jezreel,  said  to  his  wife  Jezebel :  "We  ought 
to  have  these  royal  gardens  enlarged.  If  we  could 
only  get  that  fellow,  Naboth,  who  owns  that  vineyard 
out  there,  to  trade  or  sell,  we  could  make  it  a  kitchen 
garden  for  our  palace." 

"Fetch  in  Naboth,"  says  the  king  to  one  of  his 
servants. 
The  gardener,  wondering  why  he  should  be  called  into 
the  presence  of  his  Majesty,  comes  iu  a  little  downcast  in 
his  modesty  and  with  very  obsequious  manner  bows  to  the 
king.  The  king  says:  "Naboth,  I  want  to  trade  vine- 
yards with  you.  I  want  your  vineyard  for  a  kitchen 
garden,  and  I  will  give  you  a  great  deal  better  vineyard 
in  place  of  it;  or,  if  you  prefer  money  for  it,  I  will  give 
you  cash." 

"  Oh,  no,"  says  Naboth.  "  I  cannot  trade  off  my  little 
place,  nor  can  I  sell  it.  It  is  the  old  homestead.  I  got  it 
of  my  father,  and  he  of  his  father,  and  I  cannot  let  the 
old  place  go  out  of  my  hands." 

In  a    great   state  of   petulancy,  King  Ahab  went  into 
the    house    and  flung  himself   on   the   bed   and  turned  his 
face    to   the  wall    in  a    great  pout.     His  wife  Jezebel    comes    in    and  she  says: 
"What  is  the  matter  with  you?     Are  you  sick?" 

"Oh,"  he  says,  "I  feel  very  blue.  I  have  set  my  heart  on  getting  that 
kitchen  garden,  and  Naboth  will  neither  trade  nor  sell,  and  to  be  defeated  by 
a  common  gardener  is  more  than  I  can  stand." 

"Oh,  pshaw,"  says  Jezebel;  "don't  go  on  that  way.  Get  up  and  eat  your 
dinner  and  stop  moping.     I  will  get  for  you  that  kitchen  garden." 

Then  Jezebel  borrowed  her  husband's  signet  or  seal,  for  then,  as  now,  in 
those  lands  kings  never  signed  their  names,  but  had  a  ring  with  the  royal 
name  engraved  on  it,  and  that  impressed  on  a  royal  letter  or  document  was  the 
signature.  She  stamped  her  husband's  name  on  a  proclamation,  which  resulted 
in    getting   Naboth    tried    for   treason    against   the    king,  and  two  perjured    wit- 

(131) 


(132) 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  133 

» 

nesses  swore  their  souls  away  with  the  life  of  Naboth,  and  he  was  stoned  to 
death  and  his  property  came  to  the  crown,  and  so  Jezebel  got  for  her  husband 
and  herself  the  kitchen  garden. 

But  while  the  wild  street  dogs  were  busy  rending  the  dead  body  of  poor 
Naboth,  Elijah,  the  prophet,  tells  them  of  other  canines  that  will  after  a  while 
have  a  free  banquet,  saying:  "Where  dogs  lick  the  blood  of  Naboth/  shall 
dogs  lick  thy  blood,  even  thine." 

THE   RESULT  OF  A  WIFE'S   BAD  ADVICE. 

And  sure  enough,  three  years  after,  Ahab  wounded  in  battle,  his  chariot 
dripping  with  the  carnage,  dogs  stood  under  it  lapping  his  life's  blood.  And 
a  little  afterward  his  wife,  Jezebel,  who  had  been  his  chief  adviser  in  crime, 
stands  at  her  palace  window  and  sees  Jehu,  the  enemy,  approaching  to  take 
possession  of  the  palace.  And  to  make  herself  look  as  attractive  as  possible 
and  queenly  to  the  very  last,  she  decorated  her  person,  and  according  to  Oriental 
custom  closed  her  eyes  and  ran  a  brush  dipped  in  black  powder  along  the  long 
eyelashes,  and  then  from  the  window  she  glared  her  indignation  upon  Jehu. 
As  he  rode  to  the  gates  in  his  chariot  he  shouted  to  the  slaves  in  her  room; 
''Throw  her  down!"  But  no  doubt  the  slaves  halted  a  moment  from  such 
work  of  assassination,  yet,  knowing  Queen  Jezebel  could  be  no  more  to  them 
and  the  conqueror  Jehu  would  be  everything,  as  he  shouted  again:  "Throw 
her  down,"  they  seized  her  and  bore  her  struggling  and  cursing  to  the  window 
casement  and  hurled  her  forth  until  she  came  tumbling  to  the  earth,  striking 
it  just  in  time  to  let  Jehu's  horses  trample  her  and  the  chariot  wheels  roll 
over  her.  While  Jehu  is  inside  at  the  table  refreshing  himself  after  the 
excitement  he  orders  his  servants  to  go  and  bury  the  dead  queen.  But  the 
wild  street  dogs  had  for  the  third  time  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  they  had 
removed  all  her  body  except  those  parts  which  in  all  ages  dogs  are  by  a 
strange  instinct  or  brutal  superstition  kept  from  touching  after  death — the 
palms  of  the  hands  and  the  soles  of  the  feet. 

All  this  appalling  scene  of  ancient  history  was  the  result  of  a  wife's  bad 
advice  to  a  husband,  of  a  wife's  struggle  to  advance  her  husband's  interests 
by  unlawful  means.  Ahab  and  Jezebel  got  the  kitchen  garden  of  Naboth,  but 
the  dogs  got  them.  The  trouble  all  began  when  this  mistaken  wife  aroused 
her  husband  out  of  his  melancholy  by  the  words:  "Arise,  and  eat  bread,  and 
let  thine  heart  be  merry;    I  will  give  thee  the  vineyard  of  Naboth." 

The  influence  suggested  by  this  subject  is  an  influence  you  never  before 
lead  much  about  perhaps,  and  may  never  read  of  again,  but  it  is  a  most  potent 
and  semi-omnipotent  influence,  and  decides  the  course  of  individuals,  families, 
nations,  centuries  and  eternities.  I  speak  of  wifely  ambition,  good  and  bad. 
How  important  that  every  wife  have  her  ambition,  an  elevated,  righteous  and 
divinely  approved  ambition. 


J34 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


JUDITH. 


ILLUSTRIOUS    EXAMPLES    OF 
WIFELY   DEVOTION. 

No  one  can  so  inspire  a  man 
to  noble  purposes  as  a  noble 
woman,  and  no  one,  so  thoroughly 
degrade  a  man  as  a  wife  of  un- 
worthy tendencies.  While  in  the 
case  of  Jezebel  we  have  an  illus- 
tration of  wifely  ambition  em- 
ployed in  the  wrong  direction, 
society  and  history  are  full  of 
instances  of  wifely  ambition  glor- 
iously triumphant  in  right  di- 
rections. All  that  was  worth 
admiration  in  the  character  of 
Henry  VI.  was  a  reflection  of 
the  heroics  of  his  wife  Margaret. 
William,  Prince  of  Orange,  was 
restored  to  the  right  path  by 
the  grand  qualities  of  his  wife 
Mary.  Justinian,  the  Roman 
Emperor  confesses  that  his  wise 
laws  were  the  suggestions  of  his 
wife  Theodora.  Judith  served 
her  people  by  killing  Holofernes. 
Andrew  Jackson,  the  warrior  and 
President,  had  his  mightiest  re- 
enforcement  in  his  plain  wife, 
whose  inartistic  attire  was  the 
amusement  of  the  elegant  circles 
in  which  she  was  invited.  Wash- 
ington, who  broke  the  chain  that 
held  America  in  foreign  vassal- 
age, wore  for  forty  years  a  chain 
around  his  own  neck,  that  chain 
holding  the  miniature  likeness 
of  her  who  had  been  his  great- 
est inspiration,  whether  among 
the  snows  at  Valley  Forge  or 
amid  the  honors  of  the  presi- 
dential chair.  Pliny's  pen  was 
driven  through  all  its  poetic  and 


> 

-- 
N 


s 


5> 


I 


136  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

historical  dominions  by  his  wife,  Calpurnia,  who  sang  his  stanzas  to  the 
sound  of  flute  and  sat  among  audiences  enraptured  at  her  husband's  genius, 
herself  the  most  enraptured.  Pericles  said  he  got  all  his  eloquence  and 
statesmanship  from  his  wife.  When  the  wife  of  Grotius  rescued  him 
from  long  imprisonment  at  Lovestein  by  means  of  a  bookcase  that  went  in 
and  out,  carrying  his  books  to  and  fro,  he  was  one  day  transported,  hidden 
amid  the  folios;  and  the  women  of  besieged  Weinsberg,  getting  permission 
from  the  victorious  army  to  take  with  them  so  much  of  their  valuables  as 
they  could  carry,  under  cover  of  the  promise  shouldered  and  took  with  them 
as  the  most  important  valuables  their  husbands — both  achievements  in  a  literal 
way  illustrated  what  thousands  of  times  has  been  done  in  a  figurative  way, 
that  wifely  ambition  has  been  the  salvation  of  men. 

De  Tocqueville,  whose  writings  will  be  potential  and  quoted  while  the 
world  lasts,  ascribes  his  successes  to  his  wife,  and  says :  "  Of  all  the  blessings 
which  God  has  given  to  me,  the  greatest  of  all  in  my  eyes  is  to  have  lighted 
on  Maria  Motley." 

Martin  Luther  says  of  his  wife:  "I  would  not  exchange  my  poverty  with 
her  for  all  the  riches  of  Crcesus  without  her." 

Isabella,  of  Spain,  by  her  superior  faith  in  Columbus,  put  into  the  hand 
of  Ferdinand,  her   husband,  America. 

John  Adams,  President  of  the  United  States,  said  of  his  wife :  "  She 
never,  by  word  or  look,  discouraged  me  from  running  all  hazards  for  the 
salvation  of  my  country's  liberties." 

Thomas  Carlyle  spent  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life  in  trying  by  his 
pen  to  atone  for  the  fact  that  during  his  wife's  life  he  never  appreciated  her 
influence  on  his  career  and  destiny.  Alas,  that  having  taken  her  from  a 
beautiful  home  and  a  brilliant  career,  he  should  have  buried  her  in  the  home 
of  a  recluse  and  scolded  her  in  such  language  as  only  a  dyspeptic  genius 
could  manage,  until  one  day,  while  in  her  invalidism,  riding  in  Hyde  Park, 
her  pet  dog  got  run  over,  and  under  the  excitement  the  coachman  found  her 
dead.  Then  the  literary  giant  woke  from  his  conjugal  injustice  and  wrote  the 
lamentations  of  Craigen-puttock  and  Cheyne  Row.  The  elegant  and  fulsome 
epitaphs  that  husbands  put  upon  their  wives'  tombstones  are  often  an  attempt 
to  make  up  for  lack  of  appreciative  words  that  should  have  been  uttered  in 
the  ears  of  the  living.  A  whole  Greenwood  of  monumental  inscriptions  will 
not  do  a  wife  so  much  good  after  she  has  quit  the  world  as  one  plain  sentence 
like  that  which  Tom  Hood  wrote  to  his  living  wife  when  he  said :  "  I  never 
was  anything  till  I  knew  you." 

O  woman,  what  is  your  wifely  ambition — noble  or  ignoble?  Is  it  high 
social  position  ?  That  will  then  probably  direct  your  husband,  and  he  will 
climb  and  scramble  and  slip  and  fall  and  rise  and  tumble,  and  on  what  level 
or  in  what  depth  or  on  what  height  he  will  after  a  while  be  found  I  cannot 
even  guess.     The  contest  for  social  position  is  the   most;  unsatisfactory  contest 


I 

1 

3 


H 


i38 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


in  all  the  world,  because  it  is  so  uncertain  about  your  getting  it,  and  so  inse- 
cure a  possession  after  you  have  obtained  it,  and  so  unsatisfactory  even  if  you 
keep  it.  The  whisk  of  a  lady's  fan  may  blow  it  out ;  the  growl  of  one  bear 
or  the  bellowing  of  one  bull  on  Wall  street  may  scatter  it. 

Is  the  wife's  ambition  the  political  preferment  of  her  husband  ?     Then  that 


THE   POLITICIAN    IN    RETIREMENT. 


will  probably  direct  him.  What  a  God-forsaken  realm  is  American  politics 
those  best  know  who  have  dabbled  in  them.  After  they  have  assessed  a  man 
who  is  a  candidate  for  an  office  which  he  does  not  get,  or  assessed  him  for  some 
office  attained,  and  he  has  been  whirled  round  and  round,  and  round  and  round 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  139 

among  the  drinking,  smoking,  swearing  crowd,  who  often  get  control  of  public 
affairs,  all  that  is  left  of  his  self-respect  or  moral  stamina  would  find  plenty  of 
room  on  a  geometrical  point,  which  is  said  to  have  neither  length,  breadth  nor 
thickness.  Many  a  wife  has  not  been  satisfied  till  her  husband  went  into  poli- 
tics, but  would  afterwards  have  given  all  she  possessed  to  get  him  out. 

RUINED   BY   HIS   WIFE'S   SOCIAL   AMBITION. 

I  knew  a  highly  moral  man,  useful  in  the  Church  and  possessor  of  a  bright 
home.  He  had  a  useful  and  prosperous  business,  but  his  wife  did  not  think  it 
genteel  enough.  There  were  odors  about  the  business,  and  sometimes  they 
would  adhere  to  his  garments  when  he  returned  at  night.  She  insisted  on  his 
doing  something  more  elegant,  although  he  was  qualified  for  no  business  except 
that  in  which  he  was  engaged.  To  please  her  he  changed  his  business,  and, 
in  order  to  get  on  faster,  abandoned  Church  attendance,  saying  after  he  had 
made  a  certain  number  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  he  would  return  to 
the  Church  and  its  service. 

Where  is  that  family  to-day  ? 

Obliterated.  Although  succeeding  in  business  for  which  he  was  qualified, 
he  undertook  a  style  of  merchandise  for  which  he  had  no  qualification,  and 
soon  went  into  bankruptcy.  His  new  style  of  business  put  him  into  evil  asso- 
ciation. He  lost  his  morals  as  well  as  his  mouey.  He  broke  up  not  only  his 
own  home,  but  broke  up  another  man's  home,  and  from  being  a  kind,  pure 
generous,  moral  man  he  has  become  a  homeless,  penniless  libertine.  His  wife's 
ambition  for  a  more  genteel  business  destroyed  him,  and  disgraced  her,  and 
blighted  their  only  child. 

But  suppose  now  there  be  in  our  homes,  as,  thank  God,  there  are  in  hund- 
reds of  homes  represented  by  the  readers  of  this  book,  on  the  wifely  throne  one 
who  says  not  only  by  her  words,  but  more  powerfully  by  her  actions  :  "  My 
husband,  our  destinies  are  united.  Let  us  see  where  industry,  honesty, 
common  sense  and  faith  in  God  will  put  us.  I  am  with  you  in  all  your 
enterprises.  I  cannot  be  with  you  in  person  as  you  go  to  your  daily  business, 
but  I  will  be  with  you  in  my  prayers.  Let  us  see  what  we  can  achieve  by 
having  God  in  our  hearts,  and  God  in  our  lives,  and  God  in  our  home.  Be  on 
the  side  of  everything  good.  Go  ahead  and  do  your  best,  and  though  every- 
thing should  turn  out  different  from  what-  we  have  calculated,  you  may 
always  count  on  two  who  are  going  to  help  you,  and  God  is  one  and  I  am  the 
other." 

That  man  may  have  feeble  health,  and  may  meet  with  many  obstacles  and 
business  trials,  but  he  is  coining  gloriously  through,  for  he  is  re-enforced,  and 
inspired,  and  spurred  on  by  a  woman's  voice,  as  much  as  was  Barak  by  Deborah 
when  Sisera  with  900  iron  chariots  came  on  to  crush  him  and  his  army,  and 
Deborah  shouted  in  the  ear  of  Barak:  "Up!  for  this  is  the  day  in  which  the 
Lord  hath  delivered  Sisera  into  thine  hands."      And  the  enemy  fell   back,  and 


(140) 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  141 

Sisera's  chariot  not  getting  along  fast  enough  in  the  retreat,  the  general  jumped 
out  and  took  it  afoot,  and  ran  till  he  came  to  a  place  where  a  woman  first  gave 
him  a  drink  of  milk  and  then  sent  a  spike  through  his  skull,  nailing  him  to 
the  floor. 

Some  of  us  could  tell  of  what  influence  upon  us  has  been  a  wifely  ambition 
consecrated  to  righteousness.  I  have  often  been  called  of  God,  as  I  thought, 
to  run  into  the  very  teeth  of  public  opinion,  and  all  outsiders  with  whom  I 
advised  told  me  I  had  better  not,  it  would  ruin  me  and  ruin  my  church,  and 
at  the  same  time  I  was  receiving  nice  little  letters  threatening  me  with  dirk 
and  pistol  and  poison  if  I  persisted  in  attacking  certain  evils  of  the  day,  until 
the  Commissioner  of  Police  considered  it  his  duty  to  take  his  place  in  our 
Sabbath  services  with  forty  officers  scattered  through  the  house  for  the  preser- 
vation of  order,  but  in  my  home  there  has  always  been  one  voice  to  say :  "  Go 
ahead,  and  diverge  not  an  inch  from  the  straight  line.  Who  cares  if  only 
God  is  on  our  side?" 

And  though  sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  I  was  going  out  against  900  iron 
chariots,  I  went  ahead,  cheered  by  the  domestic  voice. 

A  man  is  no  better  than  his  wife  will  let  him  be.  O  wives  of  America, 
sway  your  sceptres  of  wifely  influence  for  God  and  good  homes !  Do  not  urge 
your  husbands  to  annex  Naboth's  vineyard  to  your  palace  of  success,  whether 
right  or  wrong,  lest  the  dogs  that  come  out  to  destroy  Naboth  come  out  also 
to  devour  you.  Righteousness  will  pay  best  in  life,  will  pay  best  in  death, 
will  pay  best  in  the  judgment,  will  pay  best  through  all  eterpity. 

HOME   INFLUENCE   ON    HUSBANDS. 

In  our  efforts  to  have  the  mother  of  every  household  appreciate  her  influ- 
ence over  her  children  we  are  apt  to  forget  the  wife's  influence  over  the  hus- 
band. In  many  households  the  influence  upon  the  husband  is  the  only  home 
influence.  In  a  great  multitude  of  the  best  and  most  important  and  most  tal- 
ented families  of  the  earth  there  have,  been  no  descendants.  There  is  not  a 
child  or  a  grandchild,  or  any  remote  descendant  of  Washington,  or  Charles 
Sumner,  or  Shakespeare,  or  Edmund  Burke,  or  Pitt,  or  Lord  Nelson,  or  Cow- 
per,  or  Pope,  or  Addison,  or  Johnson,  or  Lord  Chatham,  or  Grattan,  or  Isaac 
Newton,  or  Goldsmith,  or  Swift,  or  Locke,  or  Gibbon,  or  Walpole,  or  Canning, 
or  Dryden,  or  Moore,  or  Chaucer,  or  Lord  Byron,  or  Walter  Scott,  or  Oliver 
Cromwell,  or  Garrick,  or  Hogarth,  or  Joshua  Reynolds,  or  Spenser,  or  Lord 
Bacon,  or  Macaulay.  Multitudes  of  the  finest  families  of  the  earth  are  extinct. 
As  though  they  had  done  enough  for  the  world  by  their  genius  or  wit,  or 
patriotism,  or  invention,  or  consecration,  God  withdrew  them.  In  multitudes 
of  cases  all  woman's  opportunity  for  usefulness  is  with  her  contemporaries. 
How  important  that  it  be  an  improved  opportunity! 

While  the  French  warriors  on  their  way  to  Rheims  had  about  concluded 
to  give  up  attacking  the  castle  at  Troyes  because  it  was  so  heavily  garrisoned. 


(I42) 


EXECUTION  OF  JOAN  OF  ARC. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  143 

Joan  of  Arc  entered  the  room  and  told  them  they  would  be  inside  the  castle 
in  three  days. 

"  We  would  willingly  wait  six  days,"  said  one  of  the  leaders. 

"Six!"  she  cried  out;  "you  shall  be  in  it  to-morrow."  And,  under  her 
leadership,  on  the  morrow  they  entered.  Though  Joan  afterwards  suffered 
martyrdom  at  the  stake,  her  glorious  deeds  will  live  in  the  grateful'  remem- 
brance of  the  descendants  of  those  who  so  cruelly  executed  her.  On  a  smaller 
scale  every  man  has  garrisons  to  subdue  and  obstacles  to  level,  and  every  wife 
may  be  an  inspired  Joan  of  Arc  to  her  husband.  So  that  whatever  be  his  suc- 
cesses he  will  always  bless  her  name  for  the  helpfulness  she  gave  him. 

What  a  noble,  wifely  ambition,  the  determination,  God  helping,  to  accom- 
pany her  companion  across  the  stormy  sea  of  this  life  and  together  gain  the 
wharf  of  the  Celestial  City !  Coax  him  along  with  you  i  You  cannot  drive  him 
there.  You  cannot  nag  him  there;  but  you  can  coax  him  there.  That  is 
God's  plan.  He  coaxes  us  all  the  way — coaxes  us  out  of  our  sins,  coaxes  us 
to  accept  pardon,  coaxes  us  to  heaven.  If  we  reach  that  blessed  place  it  will 
be  through  a  prolonged  and  divine  coaxing.  By  the  same  process  take  your 
companion,  and  then  you  will  get  there  as  well,  and  all  your  household.  Do 
just  the  opposite  to  your  neighbor.  Her  wifely  ambition  is  all  for  this  world, 
and  a  disappointed  and  vexed  and  unhappy  creature  she  will  be  all  the  way. 
Her  residence  may  be  better  than  yours  for  the  few  years  of  earthly  stay,  but 
she  will  move  out  of  it  as  to  her  body  into  a  house  about  five  and  a  half  feet 
long  and  about  three  feet  wide  and  two  feet  high,  and  concerning  her  soul's 
destiny  you  can  make  your  own  prognostication.  Her  husband  and  her  sons 
and  daughters,  who  all,  like  her,  live  for  this  world,  will  have  about  the  same 
destiny  for  the  body  and  the  soul.  You  having  had  a  sanctified  and  divinely 
ennobled  wifely  ambition,  will  pass  up  into  palaces,  and  what  becomes  of  your 
body  is  of  no  importance,  for  it  is  only  a  scaffolding,  pulled  down  now  that 
your  temple  is  done.  You  will  stand  in  the  everlasting  rest  and  see  your  hus- 
band come  in,  and  see  your  children  come  in,  if  they  have  not  preceded  you. 
Glorified  Christian  wife !  Pick  up  any  crown  you  choose  from  off  the  King's 
foot-stool  and  wear  it ;  it  was  promised  you  long  ago,  and  with  it  cover  up  all 
the  scars  of  your  earthly  conflict. 

FAITHFUL   WIVES'    REWARD. 

Sixteen  miles  from  St.  Petersburg,  Russia,  was  one  of  the  royal  palaces, 
and  there  one  night  Catharine,  the  Empress,  entertained  Prince  Henry.  It 
was  severe  winter  and  deep  snow,  and  the  Empress  and  the  Prince  rode  in  a 
magnificence  of  sleigh  and  robe  and  canopy  never  surpassed,  followed  by  2000 
sleighs  laden  with  the  first  people  of  Russia,  the  whole  length  of  the  distance 
illuminated  by  lamps  and  dazzling  temples  built  for  that  one  night,  and 
imitations  of  mosques  and  Egyptian  pyramids ;  and  people  of  all  nations  in 
all  styles  of  costume  standing  on  platforms   along   the   way  and   watching  the 


144 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


blaze  of  the  pyrotechnics.  At  the  palace  the  luxuries  of  kingdoms  were  gath- 
ered and  spread,  and  at  the  tables  the  guests  had  but  to  touch  the  centre  of 
a  plate,  and  by  magical  machinery  it  dropped  and  another  plate  came  up 
loaded  with  still  richer  viands.  But  all  that  scene  of  the  long  ago  shall  be 
eclipsed  by  the  greater  splendors  that  will  be  gathered  at  the  banquet  made 
by  the  heavenly  King  for  those  consecrated  women  who  came  in  out  of  the 
winter  and  snowy  chill  of  their  earthly  existence  into  the  warm  and  illumined 


CATHARINE,    OF   RUSSIA,    ASSUMING   THE   CROWN. 

palaces  of  heaven.  With  the  King  Himself  and  all  the  potentates,  yourself 
robed  and  crowned,  you  will  sit  at  a  table  compared  with  which  all  the  feasts 
at  Kenilworth  and  St.  Cloud  and  the  Alhambra  were  a  beggar's  crust.  And 
the  platter  of  one  royal  satisfaction  touched  at  the  centre  shall  disappear,  only 
to  make  room  for  a  gracious  viand,  and  the  golden  plate  of  one  royal  satisfac- 
tion, touched  at  the  centre,  shall  disappear,  only  to  make  room  for  the  coming 
of  some  richer  and  grander  regalement. 


position  tn  itife. 


WHAT    CAN    MAKE    WOMEN    HAFPY,   AND    WHAT    OFTEN   MAKES    THEM 

MISERABLE. 

^ECENTLY  the  editor  of  a  Boston  newspaper  wrote  asking 
me  the  terse  question:  "What  is  the  road  to 
happiness?"  and  "Ought  happiness  be  the  chief 
aim  of  life?"  My  r.nswer  was:  "The  road  to  hap- 
piness is  the  continuous  effort  to  make  others  happy. 
The  chief  aim  of  life  ought  to  be  usefulness,  not 
happiness;  but  happiness  always  follows  usefulness. 
"  She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  dead  while  she 
liveth." 
My  readers,  you  all  want  to  be  happy.  You  have  had  a  great 
many  recipes  by  which  it  is  proposed  to  give  you  satisfaction — 
solid  satisfaction.  At  times  you  feel  a  thorough  unrest.  You 
know  as  well  as  older  people  what  it  is  to  be  depressed.  As  dark 
shadows  sometimes  fall  upon  the  geography  of  the  school  girl  as 
on  the  page  of  the  spectacled  philosopher.  I  have  seen  as  cloudy 
days  in  May  as  in  November.  There  are  no  deeper  sighs  breathed 
by  the  grandmother  than  by  the  granddaughter.  I  correct  the 
popular  impression  that  people  are  happier  in  childhood  and  youth 
than  they  ever  will  be  again.  If  we  live  aright,  the  older  the 
happier.  The  happiest  woman  that  I  ever  knew  was  a  Christian 
octogenarian ;  her  hair  white  as  white  could  be ;  the  sunlight  of 
heaven  late  in  the  afternoon  gilding  the  peaks  of  snow.  I  have  to  say  to  a 
great  many  of  the  young  people  that  the  most  miserable  time  you  are  ever  to 
have  is  just  now.  As  you  advance  in  life,  as  you  come  out  into  the  world 
and  have  your  head  and  heart  all  full  of  gcod,  honest,  practical  Christian 
work,  then  you  will  know  what  it  is  to  begin  to  be  happy.  There  are  those 
who  would  have  us  believe  that  life  is  chasing  thistle-down  and  grasping 
bubbles.  We  have  not  found  it  so.  To  many  of  us  it  has  been  discovering 
liamonds  larger  than  the  Kohinoor,  and  I  think  that  our  joy  will  continue  to 
.ncrease  until  nothing  short  of  the  everlasting  jubilee  of  heaven  will  be  able 
to  express  it. 

Horatio  Greenough,  at  the  close  of  the  hardest  life  a  man  ever  lives — the 
life    of  an  American    artist — wrote :    "  I  don't  want  to  leave  this  world  until    I 
give  some  sign  that,  born  by  the  grace  of  God  in  this  land,  I  have  found  life 
10  (1451 


14* 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


to  be  a  very  cheerful  thing,  and  uot  the  dark  and  bitter  thing  with  which  my 

early  prospects  were  clouded." 

Albert    Barnes,  the   good    Christian,  known   the  world    over,    stood    in    his 

pulpit    in    Philadelphia,  at    seventy  or    eighty  years    of  age,    and    said:    "This 

world  is  so  very  attractive  to  me,  I  am  very  sorry  I  shall  have  to  leave  it." 

I  know  that 
Solomon  said  some 
very  dolorous 
things  about  this 
world,  and  three 
times  declared: 
"  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity." 
I  suppose  it  was  a 
reference  to  those 
times  in  his  career 
when  his  700  wives 
almost  pestered  the 
life  out  of  him. 
But  I  would  rather 
turn  to  the  descrip- 
tion he  gave  after 
his  conversion, 
when  he  says  in 
another  place: 
"Her  ways  are 
ways  of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all  her 
paths  are  peace." 

It  is  reasonable 
to  expect  it  will  be 
so.  The  longer  the 
fruit  hangs  on  the 
tree,  the  riper  and 
more  mellow  it 
ought    to    grow. 


EARLY  TROUBLES.—  LITTLE   MISCHIEF  AND   HIS   TEACHER.—  By  H.    Helntick. 


You  plant  one  grain  of  corn  and  it  will  send  up  a  stalk  with  two  ears,  each 
having  950  grains,  so  that  one  grain  planted  will  produce  1900  grains.  And 
ought  not  the  implantation  of  a  grain  of  Christian  principle  in  a  youthful  soul 
develop  into  a  large  crop  of  gladness  on  earth  and  to  a  harvest  of  eternal 
joy  in  heaven  ?  Hear  me,  then,  while  I  discourse  upon  some  of  the  mistakes 
which  young  people  make  in  regard  to  happiness,  and  point  out  to  the  young 
women  what  I  consider  to  be  the  source  of  complete  satisfaction. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


147 


LITTLE    HAPPINESS    IN    SOCIAL    POSITION. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  I  advise  you  not  to  build  your  happiness  upon 
mere  social  position.  Persons  at  your  age,  looking  off  upon  life,  are  apt  to 
think  that  if,  by  some  stroke  of  what  is  called  good  luck,  you  could  arrive  in 
an  elevated   and  affluent    position,  a  little   higher  than  that  in  which  God  has 


NAPOI.EON   ANNOUNCING  TO  JOSEPHINE   HER  DIVORCEMENT. 

called  you  to  live,  you  would  be  completely  happy.  Infinite  mistake!  The 
palace  floor  of  Ahasuerus  is  red  with  the  blood  of  Vashti's  broken  heart.  There 
have  been  no  more  scalding  tears  wept  than  those  which  coursed  the  cheeks 
of  Josephine.  If  the  sob  of  unhappy  womanhood  in  the  great  cities  could  break 
through  the  tapestried  wall,  that  sob  would  come  along  your  streets  to-day  like 


148  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

the  simoom  of  the  desert.  Sometimes  I  have  heard  in  the  rustling  of  the  robes 
on  the  city  pavement  the  hiss  of  the  adders  that  followed  in  the  wake.  You 
have  come  out  from  your  home,  and  you  have  looked  up  at  the  great  house, 
and  covet  a  life  under  those  arches,  when,  perhaps,  at  that  very  moment, 
within  that  house,  there  may  have  been  the  wringing  of  hands,  the  start  of 
horror  and  the  very  agony  of  hell.  I  knew  such  a  one.  Her  father's  house 
was  plain,  most  of  the  people  who  came  there  were  plain;  but,  by  a  change  in 
fortune  such  as  sometimes  comes,  a  hand  had  been  offered  that  led  her  into  a 
brilliant  sphere.  All  the  neighbors  congratulated  her  upon  her  grand  pros- 
pects ;  but  what  an  exchange  !  On  her  side  it  was  a  heart  full  of  generous 
impulse  and  affection.  On  his  side  it  was  a  soul  dry  and  withered  as  the 
stubble  of  the  field.  On  her  side  it  was  a  father's  house,  where  God  was 
honored  and  the  Sabbath  light  flooded  the  rooms  with  the  very  mirth  of  heaven. 
On  his  side  it  was  a  gorgeous  residence,  and  the  coming  of  mighty  men  to  be 
entertained  there,  but  within  it  were  revelry  and  godlessness.  Hardly  had  the 
orange  blossoms  of  the  marriage  feast  lost  their  fragrance,  than  the  night  of 
discontent  began  to  cast  here  and  there  its  shadows.  Cruelties  and  unkind- 
nesses  changed  all  those  splendid  trappings  into  a  hollow  mockery.  The  plat- 
ters of  solid  silver,  the  casket  of  pure  gold,  the  head-dress  of  gleaming 
diamonds,  were  there ;  but  no  God,  no  peace,  no  kind  words,  no  Christian 
sympathy.  The  festal  music  that  broke  on  the  captive's  ear  turned  out  to  be 
a  dirge,  and  the  wreath  in  the  plush  was  a  repdle  coil,  and  the  upholstery 
that  swayed  in  the  wind  was  the  wing  of  a  destroying  angel,  and  the  bead- 
drops  on  the  pitcher  were  the  sweat  of  everlasting  despair.  Oh,  how  many 
rivalries  and  unhappinesses  among  those  who  seek  in  social  life  their  chief 
happiness !  It  matters  not  how  fine  you  have  things :  there  are  other  people 
who  have  it  finer.  Taking  out  your  watch  to  tell  the  hour  of  the  day,  some 
one  will  correct  your  time-piece  by  pulling  out  a  watch  more  richly  chased  and 
jewelled.  Ride  in  a  carriage  that  cost  you  $800,  and  before  you  get  around 
the  park  you  will  meet  with  one  that  cost  $2000.  Have  on  your  wall  a  picture 
by  Copley,  and  before  night  you  will  hear  of  some  one  who  has  a  picture 
fresh  from  the  studio  of  Church  or  Bierstadt. 

All  that  this  world  can  do  for  you  in  silver,  in  gold,  in  Axminster  plush, 
in  Gobelin  tapestry,  in  wide  halls,  in  lordly  acquaintanceship,  will  not  give  yon 
the  ten  thousandth  part  of  a  grain  of  solid  satisfaction.  The  English  lord, 
moving  in  the  very  highest  sphere,  was  one  day  found  seated  with  his  chin  on 
his  hand  and  his  elbow  on  the  window  sill,  looking  out  and  saying :  "  Oh,  I 
wish  I  could  exchange  places  with  that  dog!" 

Mere  social  position  will  never  give  happiness  to  a  woman's  soul.  I  have 
had  wide  and  continuous  observation,  and  I  tell  the  young  women  that  they 
who  build  on  mere  social  position  their  soul's  immortal  happiness  are  building 
on   the  sand. 


a  broken  heart  in  a  Gilded  palace.—  From  a  Painting  by  L.  Stocks. 

(i49) 


*5Q 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


USEFULNESS    IN    HOME    CIRCLES. 
Suppose    that    a  young  woman  expends  the  brightness  of  her  early  life  in 
this  unsatisfactory  struggle    and  omits  the  present  opportunity  of  usefulness  in 
the  home  circle ;  what  a  mistake ! 

So  surely  as  the  years  roll  around,  that  home  in  which  you  now  dwell 
will  become  extinct.  The  parents  will  be  gone,  the  property  will  be  turned 
over  into  other  possession,  you  yourself  will  be  in  other  relationships,  and 
that  home  which,  only  a  year  ago,  was  full  of  congratulation,  will  be 
extinguished.  When  that  period  comes  you  will  look  back  to  see  what  you 
did  or   what    you    neglected    to    do    in    the    way    of  making  home    happy.       If 

you  did  not 
smooth  the 
path  of  your 
parents  to- 
ward the 
tomb;  if  you 
did  not  make 
their  last 
days  bright 
and  happy; 
if  you  allowed 
your  younger 
brother  to  go 
out  into  the 
world  unhal- 
lowed  by 
Christian  and 
sisterly  influ- 
ences; if  you 
allowed  the 

the  old  homestead.  younger     sis- 

ters of  your 
family  to  come  up  without  feeling  that  there  had  been  a  Christian  example  set 
them  on  your  part,  there  will  be  nothing  but  bitterness  of  lamentation.  That 
bitterness  will  be  increased  by  all  the  surroundings  of  that  home;  by  every 
chair,  by  every  picture,  by  the  old-time  mantel  ornaments,  by  everything  you  can 
think  of  as  connected  with  that  home.  All  these  things  will  rouse  up  agoniz- 
ing memories.  Young  women,  have  you  anything  to  do  in  the  way  of  making 
your  father's  home  happy?  Now  is  the  time  to  attend  to  it,  or  leave  it  forever 
undone.  Time  is  flying  very  quickly  away.  I  suppose  you  notice  the  wrinkles 
are  gathering  and  accumulating  on  those  kindly  faces  that  have  so  long  looked 
upon  you;  there  is  frost  in  the  locks;  the  foot  is  not  as  firm  in  its  step  as  it 
used  to  be;  and  they  will  soon  be  gone.     The  heaviest  clod  that  ever  falls  on 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


151 


a  parent's  coffin-lid  is  the  memory  of  an  ungrateful  daughter.  Oh,  make  their 
last  days  bright  and  beautiful.  Do  not  act  as  though  they  were  in  the  way. 
Ask  their  counsel,  seek  their  prayers,  and,  after  long  years  have  passed,  and  you 
go  out  to  see  the  grave  where  they  sleep,  you  will  find  growing  all  over  the  mound 
something  lpvelier  than  cypress,  something  sweeter  than  the  rose,  something 
chaster  than  the  lily — the  bright  and  beautiful  memories  of  filial  kindness 
performed  ere  the  dying  hand  dropped  on  you  a  benediction,  and  you  closed 
the  lids  over  the  weary  eyes  of  the  wornout  pilgrim.     Better  that,  in  the  hour 


THE  EMPTY  PLACE. 
"The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

of  your  birth,  you  had  been  struck  with  orphanage,  and  that  you  had  been 
handed  over  into  the  cold  arms  of  the  world,  rather  than  that  you  should  have 
been  brought  up  under  a  father's  care  and  a  mother's  tenderness  at  last  to 
scoff  at  their  example  and  deride  their  influence;  and  on  the  day  when  you 
followed  them  in  long  procession  to  the  tomb  to  find  that  you  are  followed  by 
a  still  larger  procession  of  unfilial  deeds  done  and  wrong  words  uttered.  The 
one  procession  will  leave  its  burden  in  the  tomb  and  disband ;  but  that  longer 
procession  of  ghastly  memories  will  forever  march  and  forever  wail.     Oh,  it  is 


152  THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

a  good  time  for  a  young  woman  when  she  is  in  her  father's  house.  How 
careful  they  are  of  her  welfare.  How  watchful  those  parents  of  all  her  inter- 
ests. Seated  at  the  morning  repast,  father  at  one  end  of  the  table,  mother  at  the 
other  and  children  on  either  side  and  between,  but  the  years  will  roll  on  and  great 
changes  will  be  effected,  and  one  will  be  missed  from  one  end  of  the  table,  and 
another  will  be  missed  from  the  other  end  of  the  table.  God  pity  that  young 
woman's  soul  who,  in  that  dark  hout,  has  nothing  but  regretful  recollections. 

PERSONAL     CHARMS    OF    WOMEN. 

I  go  further  and  advise  you  not  to  depend  for  enjoyment  upon  mere 
personal  attractions.  It  would  be  sheer  hypocrisy,  because  we  may  not  have 
it  ourselves,  to  despise,  or  affect  to  despise,  beauty  in  others.  When  God  gives 
it  He  gives  it  as  a  blessing  and  as  a  means  of  usefulness.  The  Bible  sets 
before  us  the  portraits  of  Sarah  and  Rebecca,  and  Abishag,  Absiiiom's  sister, 
and  Job's  daughters,  and  says:  "They  were  fair  to  look  upon."  By  out-door 
exercise,  and  skilful  arrangement  of  apparel,  let  women  make  themselves 
attractive.  The  sloven  has  only  one  mission,  and  that  to  excite  our  loathing 
and  disgust.  But  alas !  for  those  who  depend  upon  personal  charms  for  their 
happiness.  Beauty  is  such  a  subtle  thing,  it  does  not  seem  to  depend  upon 
facial  proportions,  or  upon  the  sparkle  of  the  eye,  or  upon  the  flush  of  the 
cheek.  You  sometimes  find  it  among  irregular  features.  It  is  the  soul  shining 
through  the  face  that  makes  one  beautiful.  But  alas !  for  those  who  depend 
upon  mere  personal  charms.  They  will  come  to  disappointment  and  to  a  great 
fret.  There  are  so  many  different  opinions  about  what  are  personal  charms; 
and  then  sickness,  and  trouble,  and  age,  do  make  such  ravages.  The  poorest 
god  that  a  woman  ever  worships  is  her  own  face.  The  saddest  sight  in  all 
the  world  is  a  woman  who  has  built  everything  on  good  looks,  when  the 
charms  begin  to  vanish.  Oh,  how  they  try  to  cover  the  wrinkles  and  hide  the 
ravages  of  time!  When  Time,  with  iron-shod  feet,  steps  on  a  face,  the  hoof- 
marks  remain,  and  you  cannot  hide  them.  It  is  silly  to  try  to  hide  them.  I 
think  the  most  repulsive  fool  in  all  the  world  is  an  old  fool ! 

Why,  my  friends,  should  you  be  ashamed  to  be  getting  old  ?  It  is  a  sign 
— it  is  prima  facie  evidence  that  you  have  behaved  tolerably  well  or  you  would 
not  have  lived  to  this  time.  The  grandest  thing,  I  think,  is  eternity,  and 
that  is  made  up  of  countless  years.  When  the  Bible  would  set  forth  the 
attractiveness  of  Jesus  Christ,  it  says :  "  His  hair  was  white  as  snow."  But 
when  the  color  goes  from  the  cheek,  and  the  lustre  from  the  eye,  and  the 
spring  from  the  step,  and  the  gracefulness  from  the  gait,  alas !  for  those  who 
have  built  their  time  and  their  eternity  upon  good  looks.  But  all  the  passage 
of  years  cannot  take  out  of  one's  face  benignity,  and  kindness,  and  compas- 
sion, and  faith.  Culture  your  heart  and  you  culture  your  face.  The  brightest 
glory  that  ever  beamed  from  a  woman's  face  is  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ. 
In  the    last    war    200    wounded    soldiers    came    to    Philadelphia   one  night,  and 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


'53 


came  unheralded,  and  they  had  to  extemporize  a  hospital  for  them,  and  the 
Christian  women  of  my  church  and  of  other  churches  went  out  that  night  to 
take  care  of  the  poor  wounded  fellows.  That  night  I  saw  a  Christian  woman 
go  through  the  wards  of  the  hospital,  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  ready  for  hard 
work,  her  hair  dishevelled  in  the  excitement  of  the  hour.  Her  face  was  plain, 
very  plain ;  but  after  the  wounds  were  washed  and  the  new  bandages  were  put 
round  the  splintered  limbs,  and  the  exhausted  boy  fell  off  into  his  first  pleasant 
sleep,  she  put  her  hand  on  his  brow,  and  he  started  in  his  dream  and  said: 
"  Oh,  I  thought  an  angel  touched  me ! " 


wounded  for  his  country. — From  the  Painting  by  Seymour  Lucas. 

There  may  have  been  no  classic  elegance  in  the  features  of  Mrs.  Harris, 
who  came  into  the  hospital  after  the  "  seven  days "  awful  fight,  as  she  sat 
down  by  a  wounded  drummer  boy  and  heard  him  soliloquize :  "  A  ball  through 
my  body,  and  my  poor  mother  will  never  again  see  her  boy.  What  a  pity  it 
is!"  And  she  leaned  over  him  and  said:  "Shall  I  be  your  mother  and  com- 
fort you  ?"  And  he  looked  up  and  said :  "  Yes ;  I'll  try  to  think  she's  here. 
Please  to  write  a  long  letter  to  her  and  tell  her  all  about  it,  and  send  her  a 
lock  of  my  hair  and  comfort  her.     But   I  would   like   to   have   you  to  tell   her 


154 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


how  much  I  suffered — yes,  I  would    like  you  to  do  that,  for  she  would  feel  so 
for  me.     Hold  my  hand  while  I  die." 

There  may  have  been  no  classic  elegance  in  her  features,  but  all  the 
hospitals  of  Harrison's  Landing  and  Fortress  Monroe  would  have  agreed  that 
she  was  beautiful ;    and   if  any  rough  man  in  all  that  ward    had    insulted    her, 

some  wounded  soldier  would  have 
leaped  from  his  couch,  on  his  best  foot, 
and  struck  him  dead  with  a  crutch. 
I  charge  you  not  to  depend  for 
happiness  upon  the  discipleship  of 
worldliness.  I  have  seen  men  as  vain 
of  their  old-fashioned  and  their  eccen- 
tric hat  as  your  brainless  fop  is  proud 
of  his  dangling  fooleries.  Fashion 
sometimes  makes  a  reasonable  demand 
of  us,  and  then  we  ought  to  yield  to  it. 
The  daisies  of  the  field  have  their 
fashion  of  color  and  leaf,  the  honey- 
suckles have  their  fashion  of  ear-drop, 
and  the  snow-flakes  flung  out  of  the 
winter  heavens  have  their  fashion  of 
exquisiteness.  After  the  summer 
shower  the  sky  weds  the  earth  with  a 
ring  of  rainbow.  And  I  do  not  think 
we  have  a  right  to  despise  the  ele- 
gancies and  fashions  of  this  world, 
especially  if  they  make  reasonable  de- 
mands upon  us ;  but  the  discipleship 
and  worship  of  fashion  is  death  to 
the  body,  and  death  to  the  soul.  I 
am  glad  the  world  is  improving. 
Look  at  the  fashion  plates  of  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries, 
and  you  will  find  that  the  world  is 
not  so  extravagant  and  extraordinary 
now  as  it  was  then,  and  all  the 
marvellous  things  that  the  grand- 
daughter will  do  will  never  equal 
that  done  by  the  grandmother.  Go  still  farther  back,  to  the  Bible  times,  and 
you  will  find  that  in  those  times  fashion  wielded  a  more  terrible  and  horrible 
sceptre.  You  have  only  to  turn  to  the  third  chapter  of  Isaiah  to  read :  "  Be- 
cause the  daughters  of   Zion    are  haughty  and  walk  with  stretched-forth  necks 


FACE   AND   FORM    OF   LOVELINESS. 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  155 

and  wanton  eyes,  walking  and  mincing  as  they  go,  and  making  a  tinkling 
with  their  feet :  in  that  day  the  Lord  will  take  away  the  bravery  of  their 
tinkling  ornaments  about  their  feet,  and  their  cauls,  and  their  round  tires  like 
the  moon :  the  chains,  and  the  bracelets,  and  the  mufflers,  the  bonnets,  and 
the  headbands,  and  the  tablets,  and  the  ear-riugs,  the  rings,  and  the  nose- 
jewels,  the  changeable  suits  of  apparel,  and  the  mantles,  and  -the  wimples,  and 
the  crisping  pins,  the  glasses,  and  the  fine  linen,  and  the  hoods,  and  the  veils." 
Only  think  of  a  woman  having  all  that  on !  I  am  glad  the  world  is  get- 
ting better  and  that  fashion  which  has  dominated  in  the  world  so  ruinously  in 
other  days  has  for  a  little  time,  for  a  little  degree  at  any  rate,  relaxed  its 
energies.  All  the  splendors  and  extravaganza  of  this  world  dyed  into  your 
robe  and  flung  over  your  shoulder  cannot  wrap  peace  around  your  heart  for  a 
single  moment.  The  gayest  wardrobe  will  utter  no  voice  of  condolence  in  the 
day  of  trouble  and  darkness.  That  woman  is  grandly  dressed,  and  only  she, 
who  is  wrapped  in  the  robe  of  a  Saviour's  righteousness.  The  home  may  be 
very  humble,  the  hat  may  be  very  plain,  the  frock  may  be  very  coarse ;  but 
the  halo  of  heaven  settles  in  the  room  when  she  wears  it,  and  the  faintest 
touch  of  the  resurrection  angel  will  change  that  garment  into  raiment  exceed- 
ing white,  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  could  whiten  it.  I  come  to  you,  young 
women,  to-day  to  say  that  this  world  cannot  make  you  happy.  I  know  it  is 
a  bright  world,  with  glorious  sunshine,  and  golden  rivers,  and  fire-worked 
sunset,  and  bird  orchestra,  and  the  darkest  cave  has  its  crystals,  and  the 
wrathiest  wave  its  foam  wreath,  and  the  coldest  midnight  its  flaming  aurora ; 
but  God  will  put  out  all  these  lights  with  the  blast  of  his  own  nostrils,  and 
the  glories  of  this  world  will  perish  in  the  final  conflagration. 

GOOD   NIGHT   TO   TEARS   AND    POVERTY. 

The  snow  was  very  deep,  and  it  was  still  falling  rapidly  when,  in  the 
first  year  of  my  Christian  ministry,  I  hastened  to  see  a  young  woman  die.  It 
was  a  very  humble  home.  She  was  an  orphan ;  her  father  had  been  ship- 
wrecked on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland.  She  had  earned  her  own  living.  As 
I  entered  the  room  I  saw  nothing  attractive.  No  pictures,  no  tapestry,  not 
even  a  cushioned  chair.  The  snow  on  the  window  casement  was  not  whiter 
than  the  cheek  of  that  dying  girl.  It  was  a  face  never  to  be  forgotten. 
Sweetness  and  majesty  of  soul  and  faith  in  God  had  given  her  a  matchless 
beauty,  and  the  sculptor  who  could  have  caught  the  outlines  of  those  features 
and  frozen  them  into  stone  would  have  made  himself  immortal.  With  her 
large  brown  eyes  she  looked  calmly  into  the  great  eternity.  I  sat  down  by 
her  bedside  and  said :  "  Now  tell  me  all  your  troubles,  and  sorrows,  and  strug- 
gles, and  doubts."  She  replied:  "I  have  no  doubts  or  struggles.  It  is  all 
plain  to  me.  Jesus  has  smoothed  the  way  for  my  feet.  I  wish  when  you  go- 
to your  pulpit  next  Sunday,  you  would  tell  the  young  people  that  religion, 
will    make    them    happy.     'O    death,    where    is    thy    sting?'     Mr.  Talmage,    1 


1.56 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


wonder  if  this  is  not  the  blis  of  dying?"  I  said:  "Yes,  I  think  it  must  be." 
I  lingered  around  the  couch.  The  sun  was  setting,  and  her  sister  lighted  a 
candle.  She  lighted  the  candle  for  me.  The  dying  girl,  the  dawn  of  heaven 
in  her  face,  needed  no  candle.  I  rose  to  go,  and  she  said :  "  I  thank  you  for 
coming.  Good  night !  When  we  meet  again  it  will  be  in  heaven — in  heaven  1 
Good  night!    good  night!" 

For  her  it  was  good  night  to  tears,  good  night  to  poverty,  good  night   to 
death ;    but    when    the    sun    rose    again  it    was    good   morning.     The  light   of 


WATCHING    FOR   THE    HUSBAND   AND    FATHER   THAT  WILL   COME   NO   MORE. 

another  day  had  burst  in  upon  her  soul.  Good  morning!  The  angels  were 
singing  her  welcome  home,  and  the  hand  of  Christ  was  putting  upon  her 
brow  a  garland.  Good  morning !  Her  sun  rising.  Her  palm  waving.  Her 
spirit  exulting  before  the  throne  of  God.  Good  morning!  Good  morning! 
The  white  lily  of  poor  Margaret's  cheek  had  blushed  into  the  rose  of  health 
immortal,  and  the  snows  through  which  we  carried  her  to  the  country  grave- 
yard were  symbols  of  that  robe  which  she  wears,  so  white  that  no  fuller  on 
earth  could  whiten  it.     My  sister,  my  daughter,  may  your  last  end  be  like  hers  1 


•   <Krantmiotf)er. 

THE   BLESSED   INFLUENCE   OF  DEVOUT   OLD   AGE. 

N  a  love  letter  which  Paul,  the  old  minister,  wrote  to  Timothy,  the 

young  minister,  '■he  family  record  is  brought  out.     Paul  practically 

says :  "  Timothy,  what  a  good  grandmother  you  had.     You  ought 

to    be    better  than  most  folks,  because    not   only  was  your  mother 

good,  but  your  grandmother.     Two  preceding  generations  of  piety 

ought  to  give   you    a    mighty  push  in  the    right   direction."     The 

fact  was  that  Timothy  needed  encouragement.     He  was  in  poor  health, 

having    a  weak    stomach,  and  was    dyspeptic,  and    Paul    prescribed  for 

him  a  tonic,  "  a  little  wine  for  thy  stomach's  sake  " — not   much  wine, 

but  a  little  wine,  and  only  as  a  medicine.     And  if  the  wine  then  had 

been  Q.s    much  adulterated  with    logwood  and    strychnine  as    our  modern  wines, 

he  would  not  have  prescribed  any. 

But  Timothy,  not  strong  physically,  is  encouraged  spiritually  by  the 
recital  of  grandmotherly  excellence,  Paul  hinting  to  him,  as  I  hint  to  you,  that 
God  sometimes  gathers  up  as  in  a  reservoir  away  back  of  the  active  generations 
of  to-day  a  godly  influence,  and  then  in  response  to  prayer  lets  down  the  power 
upon  children  and  grandchildren  and  great-grandchildren.  The  world  is  woefully 
in  want  of  a  table  of  statistics  in  regard  to  what  is  the  protractedness  and 
immensity  of  influence  of  one  good  woman  in  the  Church  and  world.  We 
have  accounts  of  how  much  evil  has  been  wrought  by  Margaret,  the  mother  of 
criminals,  who  lived  near  100  years  ago,  and  of  how  many  hundreds  of  crimi- 
nals her  descendants  furnished  for  the  penitentiaries  and  the  gallows,  and  how 
many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  they  cost  this  country  in  their  arraign- 
ment and  prison  support,  as  well  as  in  the  property  they  burglarized  or  destroyed. 
But  will  not  some  one  come  out  with  brain  comprehensive  enough  and  heart 
warm  enough  and  pen  keen  enough  to  give  us  the  facts  in  regard  to  some  good 
woman  of  ioo  years  ago,  and  let  us  know  how  many  Christian  men  and 
women  and  reformers  and  useful  people  have  been  found  among  her  descendants, 
and  how  many  asylums  and  colleges  and  churches  they  built,  and  how  many 
millions  of  dollars  they  contributed  for  humanitarian  and  Christian  purposes  ? 

The  good  women  whose  tombstones  were  planted  in  the  eighteenth  century 
arj  more  alive  for  good  in  the  nineteenth  century  than  they  were  before,  as  the 
good  women  of  this  nineteenth  century  will  be  more  alive  for  good  in  the 
twentieth  century  than  now.  Mark  you,  I  have  no  idea  that  the  grandmothers 
were  any  better  than  their  granddaughters.  You  cannot  get  very  old  people  to 
talk  much  about  how  things  were  when  they  were  boys  and  girls.     They  have 

(157) 


i58 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


a  reticence  and  a  non-committalism  which  makes  me  think  they  feel  themselves 
to  be  the  custodians  of  the  reputations  of  their  early  comrades.  While  our  dear 
old  folks  are  rehearsing  the  follies  of  the  present,  if  you  put  them  on  the 
witness  stand  and  cross-examine  them  as  to  how  things  were  seventy  years  ago 
the  silence  becomes   oppressive. 


GRANDMOTHER. 


THE    WOMEN    OF    THE    LAST    CENTURY. 


A  celebrated  Frenchman  by  the  name  of  Volney,  visited  this  country  in 
1796,  and  he  says  of  woman's  diet  in  those  times :  "  If  a  premium  was  offered 
for  a  regimen  most  destructive  to  health,  none  could  be  devised  more  efficacious 
for  these  ends  than  that  in  use  among  these  people."  That  eclipses  our  lobster 
salad  at  midnight.     Everybody  talks  about  the  dissipation  of  modern  society  and 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


i59 


how  womanly  health  goes  down  under  it,  but  it  was  worse  a  hundred  years  ago, 
for  the  chaplain  of  a  French  regiment  in  our  Revolutionary  War  wrote  in  1782, 
in  his  book  of  American  women,  saying :  "  They  are  tall  and  well  proportioned, 
their  features  are  generally  regular,  their  complexions  are  generally  fair  and 
without  color.     At  twenty  years  of  age  the  women  have  no  longer  the  freshness 


talking  over  old  times. — By  Ed.  Schulz  Briesen. 

of  youth.  At  thirty  or  forty  they  are  decrepit."  In  181 2,  a  foreign  consul 
wrote  a  book  entitled  "A  Sketch  of  the  United  States  at  the  Commencement  of 
the  Present  Century,"  and  he  says  of  the  women  of  those  times  :  "At  the  age 
cf  thirty  all  their   charms    have    disappeared."     One   glance  at  the  portraits  of 


i6o 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


K 
O 
< 

o 


< 
A 

w 
i 
P 


the  women  a  hun- 
dred years  ago  and 
their  style  of  dress 
makes  us  wonder 
how  they  ever  got 
their  breath.  All 
this  makes  me  think 
that  the  express  rail 
train  is  no  more  an 
improvement  on  the 
old  canal  boat,  or 
the  telegraph  no 
more  an  improve- 
ment on  the  old- 
time  saddle-bag  s,. 
than  the  women  of 
our  day  are  an  im- 
provement on  the 
women  of  the  last 
century. 

But  still,  notwith- 
standing that  those 
times  were  so  much 
worse  than  ours,, 
there  was  a  glorious 
race  of  godly  women, 
seventy  and  a  hun- 
dred years  ago,  who- 
held  the  world  back 
from  sin  and  lifted 
it  toward  virtue,  and 
without  their  exalted 
and  sanctified  influ- 
ence before  this  the 
last  good  influence 
would  have  perished 
from  the  earth.  In- 
deed, all  over  this 
land  there  are  seated 
to-day — not  so  much 
in  churches,  for 
many  of  them  are 
too  feeble  to  come — a. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


161 


great  many  aged  grandmothers.  They  sometimes  feel  that  the  world  has  gone 
past  them,  and  they  have  an  idea  that  they  are  of  little  account.  Their  heads 
sometimes  get  aching  from  the  racket  of  the  grandchildren  down-stairs  or  in 
the  next  room.  They  steady  themselves  by  the  banisters  as  they  go  up  and 
down.  When  they  get  a  cold  it  hangs  on  to  them  longer  than  it  used  to. 
They  cannot  bear  to  have  the  grandchildren  punished  even  when  they  deserve 
it,  and  have  so  relaxed  their  ideas  of  family  discipline  that  they  would  spoil 
all  the  youngsters  of  the  house- 
hold by  too  great  leniency. 
These  old  folks  are  the  resort 
when  great  troubles  come,  and 
there  is  a  calming  and  soothing 
power  in  the  touch  of  an  aged 
hand  that  is  almost  supernatural. 
They  feel  they  are  almost 
through  with  the  journey  of 
life,  and  read  the  old  book  more 
than  they  used  to,  hardly  know- 
ing which  most  they  enjoy,  the 
Old  Testament  or  the  New,  and 
often  stop  and  dwell  tearfully 
over  the  family  record  half  way 
between.  We  hail  them  to-day, 
whether  in  the  house  of  God 
or  at  the  homestead.  Blessed 
is  that  household  that  has  in 
it  a  Grandmother  Lois.  Where 
she  is,  angels  are  hovering  round 
and  God  is  in  the  room.  May 
her  last  days  be  like  those 
lovely  autumnal  days  that  we 
call  Indian  Summer. 

I  never  knew  the  joy  of  having 
a  grandmother ;  that  is  the  dis- 
advantage of  being  the  youngest  child  of  the  family.  The  elder  members  only 
have  that  benediction.  But  though  she  went  up  out  of  this  life  before  I  began 
it,  I  have  heard  of  her  faith  in  God,  that  brought  all  her  children  into  the 
kingdom,  and  two  of  them  into  the  ministry,  and  then  brought  all  her  grand- 
children into  the  kingdom,  myself  the  last  and  least  worthy.  Is  it  not 
time  that  you  and  I  do  two  things,  swing  open  a  picture  gallery  of  the 
wrinkled  faces  and  stooped  shoulders  of  the  past,  and  call  down  from 
their  heavenly  thrones  the  godly  grandmothers  to  give  them  our  thanks, 
and  then  persuade  the  mothers  of  to-day  that  they  are  living  *for  all  time, 
ii 


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VISITING  THE  SICK   AND   DESTITUTE. 


162  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

and   that   against  the  sides  of  every  cradle  in  which  a  child  is  rocked  beat  the 
two  eternities  ? 

Do  not  let  the  grandmothers  any  longer  think  that  they  are  retired,  and  sit 
clear  back  out  of  sight  from  the  world,  feeling  that  they  have  no  relation  to 
it.  The  mothers  of  the  last  century  are  to-day  in  the  Senates,  the  Parliaments, 
the  palaces,  the  pulpits,  the  banking-houses,  the  professional  chairs,  the  prisons, 
the  almshouses,  the  company  of  midnight  brigands,  the  cellars,  the  ditches  of 
this  century.  You  have  been  thinking  about  the  importance  of  having  the 
right  influence  upon  one  nursery.  You  have  been  thinking  of  the  importance 
of  getting  these  two  little  feet  on  the  right  path.  You  have  been  thinking  of 
your  child's  destiny  for  the  next  eighty  years,  if  it  should  pass  on  to  be  an 
octogenarian.  That  is  well,  but  my  subject  sweeps  a  thousand  years,  a  million 
years,  a  quadrillion  of  years.  I  cannot  stop  at  one  cradle,  I  am  looking  at  the 
cradles  that  reach  all  round  the  world  and  across  all  time.  I  am  not  talking 
of  Mother  Eunice,  I  am  talking  of  Grandmother  Lois.  The  only  way  you  can 
tell  the  force  of  a  current  is  by  sailing  up-stream ;  or  the  force  of  an  ocean 
wave,  by  running  the  ship  against  it.  Running  along  with  it  we  cannot  appre- 
ciate the  force.  In  estimating  maternal  influence  we  generally  run  along  with 
it  down  the  stream  of  time,  and  so  we  don't  understand  the  full  force.  Let  us 
come  up  to  it  from  the  eternity  side,  after  it  has  been  working  on  for  centu- 
ries, and  see  all  the  good  it  has  done  and  all  the  evil  it  has  accomplished, 
multiplied  in  magnificent  or  appalling  compound  interest.  The  difference 
between  that  mother's  influence  now  and  the  influence  when  it  has  been  mul- 
tiplied in  hundreds  of  thousands  of  lives  is  the  difference  between  the  Missis- 
sippi River  way  up  at  the  top  of  the  continent,  starting  from  the  little  Lake 
Itasca,  seven  miles  long  and  one  wide,  and  its  mouth  at  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
where  navies  might  ride.  Between  the  birth  of  that  river  and  its  burial  in 
the  sea  the  Missouri  pours  in,  and  the  Ohio  pours  in,  and  the  Arkansas  pours 
in,  and  the  Red  and  White  and  Yazoo  Rivers  pour  in,  and  all  the  States  and 
Territories  between  the  Alleghany  and  Rocky  Mountains  make  contribution. 
Now,  in  order  to  test  the  power  of  a  mother's  influence,  we  need  to  come  in 
off  of  the  ocean  of  eternity  and  sail  up  toward  the  one  cradle,  and  we  will 
find  10,000  tributaries  of  influence  pouring  in  and  pouring  down. 

ROLLING   ON   AND   FOREVER. 

But  it  is,  after  all,  one  great  river  of  power,  rolling  on  and  rolling  for- 
ever. Who  can  fathom  it  ?  Who  can  bridge  it  ?  Who  can  stop  it  ?  Had 
not  mothers  better  be  intensifying  their  prayers  ?  Had  they  not  better  be 
elevating  their  example?  Had  they  not  better  be  rousing  themselves  with 
consideration  that  by  their  faithfulness  or  neglect  they  are  starting  an  influ- 
ence which  will  be  stupendous  after  the  last  mountain  of  earth  is  flat,  and 
the  last  sea  has  been  dried  up,  and  the  last  flake  of  the  ashes  of  a  consumed 
world    shall    have    been    blown    away,   and    all    the    telescopes  of  other  worlds, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


X63 


directed  to  the  track  around  which  our 
world  once  swung,  shall  discover  not 
so  much  as  a  cinder  of  the  burned- 
down  and  swept-off  planet.  In  Ceylon 
there  is  a  granite  column,  thirty-six 
square  feet  in  size,  which  is  thought 
by  the  natives  to  decide  the  world's 
continuance.  An  angel,  with  robe  spun 
from  zephyrs,  is  once  a  century  to  de- 
scend and  sweep  the  hem  of  that  robe 
across  the  granite,  and  when,  by  that 
attrition,  the  column  is  worn  away, 
they  say  time  will  end.  But  by  that 
process  that  granite  column  would  be 
worn  out  of  existence  before  mother's 
influence  will  begin  to  give  way. 

If  a  mother  tell  a  child  he  is  not 
good,  some  bugaboo  will  come  and  catch 
him,  the  fear  excited  may  make  the 
child  a  coward,  and  the  fact  that  he 
finds  that  there  is  no  bugaboo  may 
make  him  a  liar,  and  the  echo  of  that 
false  alarm  may  be  heard  after  fifteen 
generations  have  been  born  and  have 
expired.  If  a  mother  promise  a  child 
a  reward  for  good  behavior  and  after 
the  good  behavior  forgets  to  give  the 
reward,  the  cheat  may  crop  out  in 
some  faithlessness  half  a  thousand  years 
further  on.  If  a  mother  culture  a 
child's  vanity  and  eulogize  his  curls 
and  extol  the  night-black  or  sky-blue 
or  nut-brown  of  the  child's  eyes,  and 
call  out  in  his  presence  the  admiration 
of  spectators,  pride  and  arrogance  may 
be  prolonged  after  half  a  dozen  family 
records  have  been  obliterated.  If  a 
mother  express  doubt  about  some  state- 
ment of  the  Holy  Bible  in  a  child's 
presence,  long  after  the  gates  of  this 
historical  era  have  closed,  and  the  gates 
of  another  era  have  opened,  the  result  may  be  seen  in  a  champion  blas- 
phemer.    But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  a  mother  walking  with  a  child  see  a  suffer- 


THE 

"GUIDING  ANGEL" 
From  the  Sculpture  by  L.  A.  Malempre. 


1 64  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

ing  one  by  the  wayside  and  says :  "  My  child,  give  that  ten-cent  piece  to  that 
lame  boy,"  the  result  may  be  seen  on  the  other  side  of  the  following  century 
in  some  George  Muller  building  a  whole  village  of  orphanages.  If  a  mother 
sit  almost  every  evening  by  the  trundle  bed  of  a  child  and  teach  it  lessons  of 
a  Saviour's  example,  of  the  importance  of  truth  and  the  horror  of  a  lie, 
and  the  virtues  of  industry  and  kindness  and  sympathy  and  self-sacrifice, 
long  after  the  mother  has  gone  and  the  child  has  gone  and  the  lettering  on 
both  the  tombstones  shall  have  been  washed  out  by  the  storms  of  innumerable 
winters,  there  may  be  standing,  as  a  result  of  those  trundle  bed  lessons,  flaming 
evangels,  world-moving  reformers,  circulating  Summerfields,  weeping  Paysons, 
thundering  Whitefields,  emancipating  Washingtons. 

Good  or  bad  influence  may  skip  one  generation  or  two  generations,  but  it 
will  be  sure  to  land  in  the  third  or  fourth  generation,  just  as  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments, speaking  of  the  visitation  of  God  on  families,  says  nothing  about 
the  second  generation,  but  entirely  skips  the  second  and  speaks  of  the  third 
and  fourth  generations :  "  Visiting  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  third 
and  fourth  generations  of  them  that  hate  me."  Parental  influence,  right  and 
wrong,  may  jump  over  a  generation,  but  it  is  sure  to  appear  further  on. 
Timothy's  ministry  was  projected  by  his  grandmother,  Lois.  There  are  men 
and  women,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Christian  Church,  who  are  such  as 
a  result  of  the  consecration  of  great-great-grandmothers.  Why,  who  do  you 
think  the  Lord  is  ?  You  talk  as  though  his  memory  was  weak.  He  can '  no 
easier  remember  a  prayer  five  minutes  than  He  can  five  centuries. 

A   FAMILIAR   SIGHT    EXPLAINED. 

This  explains  what  we  often  see — some  man  or  woman  distinguished  for 
benevolence  when  the  father  and  mother  were  distinguished  for  penuriousness ; 
or  you  see  some  young  man  or  woman  with  a  bad  father  and  a  hard  mother 
come  out  gloriously  for  Christ,  and  make  the  Church  sob,  and  shout  and  sing 
under  their  exhortations.  We  stand  in  corners  of  the  vestry  and  whisper  over 
the  matter  and  say  :  "  How  is  this,  such  great  piety  in  sons  and  daughters  of 
such  parental  worldliness  and  sin  ?"  I  will  explain  it  to  you  if  you  will  fetch 
me  the  old  family  Bible  containing  the  full  record.  Let  some  septuagenarian 
look  with  me  clear  upon  the  page  of  births  and  marriages,  and  tell  me  who  that 
woman  was  with  the  old-fashioned  name  of  Jemima,  or  Betsy,  or  Mehitabel. 
Ah,  there  she  is,  the  old  grandmother  or  great-grandmother,  who  had  enough 
religion  to  saturate  a  century. 

There  she  is,  the  dear  old  soul,  grandmother  Lois.  In  our  beautiful  Green- 
wood cemetery,  there  is  the  resting-place  of  George  W.  Bethune,  once  a  minis- 
ter of  Brooklyn  Heights,  his  name  never  spoken  among  intelligent  Americans 
without  suggesting  two  things — eloquence  and  evangelism.  In  the  same  tomb 
sleeps  his  grandmother,  Isabella  Graham,  who  was  the  chief  inspiration  of  his 
ministry.     You  are  not  surprised  at  the  poetry  and  pathos  and  pulpit  power  of 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


165 


the  grandson  when  you  read  of  the  faith  and  devotion  of  his  wonderful  ances- 
tress. When  you  read  this  letter  in  which  she  poured  out  her  widowed  soul  in 
longing  for  a  sou's  salvation,  you  will  not  wonder  that  succeeding  generations 
have  been  blessed : 

New  York,  May  20th,  1791. — This  day  my  only  son  left  me  in  bitter  wringings  of  heart ;  he 
is  again  launched  on  the  ocean — God's  ocean.  The  Lord  saved  him  from  shipwreck,  brought  him 
to  my  home,  and  allowed  me  once  more  to  indulge  my  affections  over  him.  He  has  been  with  me 
but  a  short  time,  and  ill  have  I  improved  it ;  he  is  gone  from  my  sight  and  my  heart  bursts  with 
tumultuous  grief.     Lord  have  mercy  on  the  widow's  son,  "  the  only  son  of  his  mother." 


how  far  yet?— From  the  Painting  by  Ariz. 

I  ask  nothing  in  all  this  world  for  him  ;  I  repeat  my  petition,  save  his  soul  alive,  give  him 
Salvation  from  sin.  It  is  not  the  danger  of  the  seas  that  distresses  me  ;  it  is  not  the  hardships  he 
must  undergo  ;  it  is  not  the  dread  of  never  seeing  him  more  in  this  world  ;  it  is  because  I  cannot 
discern  the  new  birth,  nor  its  fruit,  but  every  symptom  of  captivity  to  Satan,  the  world  and  self- 
will.  This,  this  is  what  distresses  me  ;  and  in  connection  with  this  his  being  shut  out  from  ordi- 
nances at  a  distance  from  Christians  ;  shut  up  with  those  who  forget  God,  profane  His  name,  and 
break  His  Sabbaths ;  men  who  often  live  and  die  like  beasts,  yet  are  accountable  creatures,  who 
must  answer  for  every  moment  of  time  and  every  word,  thought  and  action.  O,  Lord,  many 
wonders  hast  Thou  shown  me ;  Thy  ways  of  dealing  with  me  and  mine  have  not  been  common 
ones ;  add  this  wonder  to  the  rest.  Call,  convert,  regenerate  and  establish  a  sailor  in  the  faith. 
Lord,  all  things  are  possible  with  Thee ;  glorify  Thy  Son,  and  extend  His  kingdom  by  sea  and 
land  ;  take  the  prey  from  the  strong.  I  roll  him  over  upon  Thee.  Many  friends  try  to  comfort 
me.  Miserable  comforters  are  they  all.  Thou  art  the  God  of  consolation  ;  only  confirm  to  me  Thy 
precious  word,  on  which  Thou  causedst  me  to  hope  in  the  day  when  Thou  saidst  to  me,  "Leave 
hy  fatherless  children,  I  will  preserve  them  alive."  Only  let  this  life  be  a  spiritual  life,  and  I 
put  a  blank  in  Thy  hand  as  to  all  temporal  things.     I  wait  for  Thy  salvation.     Amen. 


i66 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


With  such  a  grandmother,  would  you  not  have  a  right  to  expect  a  George 
W.  Bethune?  and  all  the  thousands  converted  throi;gh  his  ministry  may  date 
:he  saving  power  back  to  Isabella  Graham. 


GRANDMOTHER    IN   HEAVEN. 


God  will  fill  the  earth  and  the  heavens  with  such  grandmothers ;  we  must 
some  day  go  up  and  thank  these  dear  old  souls.  Surely  God  will  let  us  go 
up  and  tell  them  of  the  results  of  their  influence.  Among  our  first  questions 
in  heaven  will  be:     "Where    is    grandmother?"     They  will    point  her  out,  for 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  167 

we  would  hardly  know  her  even  if  we  had  seen  her  on  earth ;  so  bent  over 
with  years  once,  and  there  so  straight;  so  dim  of  eye  through  the  blinding 
of  earthly  tears  and  now  her  eye  as  clear  as  heaven ;  so  full  of  aches  and 
pains  once  and  now  so  agile  with  celestial  health,  the  wrinkles  blooming  into 
carnation  roses,  and  her  step  like  the  roe  on  the  mountains.  Yes,  I  must  see 
her,  my  grandmother  on  my  father's  side,  Mary  McCoy. 

You  must  see  those  women  of  the  early  nineteenth  century  and  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  answer  of  whose  prayers  is  in  your  welfare  to-day. 
God  bless  all  the  aged  women  up  and  down  the  laud  and  in  all  lands !  Make 
it  as  easy  for  the  old  folks  as  you  can.  When  they  are  sick,  get  for  them  the 
best  doctors.  Give  them  your  arm  when  the  streets  are  slippery.  Stay  with 
them  all  the  time  you  can.  Go  home  and  see  the  old  folks.  Find  the  place 
for  them  in  the  hymn-book.  Never  be  ashamed  if  they  prefer  styles  of  apparel 
a  little  antiquated.  Never  say  anything  that  implies  they  are  in  the  way. 
Make  the  road  for  the  last  mile  as  smooth  as  you  can.  Oh,  my !  how  you 
will  miss  her  when  she  is  gone.  I  would  give  the  house  from  over  my  head 
to  see  mother.  I  have  so  many  things  I  would  like  to  tell  her,  things  that 
have  happened  in  the  twenty-four  years  since  she  went  away.  Morning,  noon 
and  night  let  us  thank  God  for  the  good  influences  that  have  come  down  from 
good  mothers  all  the  way  back.  Timothy,  don't  forget  your  mother  Eunice, 
and  don't  forget  your  grandmother  Lois.  And  hand  down  to  others  this 
patrimony  of  blessing.  Pass  along  the  coronets.  Make  religion  an  heirloom 
from  generation  to  generation.  Mothers  of  America,  consecrate  yourselves  to 
God  and  you  will  help  consecrate  all  the  ages  following !  Do  not  dwell  so 
much  on  your  hardships  that  you  miss  your  chance  of  wielding  an  influence 
that  shall  look  down  upon  you  from  the  towers  of  an  endless  future.  I  know 
Martin  Luther  was  right  when  he  consoled  his  wife  over  the  death  of  their 
daughter  by  saying:  "Don't  take  on  so,  wife;  remember  that  this  is  a  hard 
world  for  girls."  Yes,  I  go  further  and  say:  It  is  a  hard  world  for  women. 
Ay,  I  go  further  and  say:  It  is  a  hard  world  for  men.  But  for  all  women 
and  men  who  trust  their  bodies  and  souls  in  the  hand  of  Christ  the  shining 
gates  will  soon  swing  open.  Don't  you  see  the  sickly  pallor  on  the  sky  ? 
That  is  the  pallor  on  the  cold  cheek  of  the  dying  night.  Don't  you  see  the 
brightening  of  the  clouds  ?  That  is  the  flush  on  the  warm  forehead  of  the 
morning.     Cheer  up,  you  are  coming  within  sight  of  the  Celestial  City. 

Cairo,  capital  of  Egypt,  was  called  "City  of  Victory."  Athens,  capital  of 
Greece,  was  called  "  City  of  the  Violet  Crown  ; "  Baalbeck  was  called  "  City 
of  the  Sun  ; "  London  was  called  "  The  City  of  Masts."  Lucian's  imaginary 
metropolis  beyond  the  Zodiac  was  called  "  The  City  of  Lanterns."  But  the 
city  to  which  you  journey  hath  all  these  in  one,  the  victory,  the  crowns,  the 
masts  of  those  that  have  been  harbored  after  the  storm.  Ay,  all  but  the 
lanterns  and  the  sun,  because  they  have  no  need  of  any  other  light,  since  the 
Lamb  is  the  light  thereof. 


Songs. 

SONGS    FOR   YOUNG  AND    OLD,   FOR  AFFLICTION  AND 
DEATH.     HARMONY  ON   EARTH  AND  IN  HEAVEN. 

IRST  and  last  let  Christ  be  our  song.     Christ  ought  to 

be    the   cradle    song.     What   our   mothers    sang  to  us 

when  they  put    us    to  sleep  is  singing  yet.     We  may 

have  forgotten  the  words,  but  they  went  into  the  fibre 

of  our  soul,  and  will   forever  be  a  part   of   it.      It   is 

not  so    much  what    you  formally  teach   your  children 

as  what    you    sing  to  them.     A  hymn  has  wings  and 

can  fly    everywhither.      One    hundred  and  fifty    years 

after    you    are    dead,  and  "  Old    Mortality "  has    worn 

out  his  chisel  in  recutting  your  name  on  the  tombstone,  your 

great-grandchildren  will  be  singing  the  song  which  you  now  sing 

to  your  little  ones  gathered   about   your  knee.     There  is  a  place 

in   Switzerland  where    if   you    distinctly    utter    your    voice    there 

come    back  ten    or    fifteen    distinct    echoes,   and    every    Christian 

song  sung  by  a  mother  in  the  ear  of  her  child  shall  have  10,000 

echoes  coming  back  from  all  the  gates  of  heaven.     Oh,  if  mothers 

only  knew  the  power  of  this  sacred  spell,  how  much  oftener  the 

little    ones  would    be  gathered,  and    all   our    homes  would  chime 

with  the  songs  of  Jesus  ! 

We  want  some  counteracting  influence  upon  our  children. 
The  very  moment  your  child  steps  into  the  street  he  steps  into 
the  path  of  temptation.  There  are  foul-mouthed  children  who  would  like  to 
besoil  your  little  ones.  It  will  not  do  to  keep  your  little  boys  and  girls  in  the 
house  and  make  them  house-plants  :  they  must  have  fresh  air  and  recreation. 
God  save  your  children  from  the  scathing,  blasting,  damning  influence  of  the 
streets  !  I  know  of  no  counteracting  influence  but  the  power  of  Christian  cul- 
ture and  example.  Hold  before  your  little  ones  the  pure  life  of  Jesus ;  let 
that  name  be  the  word  that  shall  exorcise  evil  from  their  hearts.  Give  to  your 
instruction  all  the  fascination  of  music,  morning,  noon  and  night ;  let  it  be 
Jesus,  the  cradle  song.  This  is  important  if  your  children  grow  up,  but  per- 
haps they  may  not.  Their  pathway  may  be  short.  Jesus  may  be  wanting 
that  child.  Then  there  will  be  a  soundless  step  in  the  dwelling,  and  the 
youthful  pulse  will  begin  to  flutter,  and  little  hands  will  be  lifted  for  help. 
You  cannot  help.  And  a  great  agony  will  pinch  at  your  heart,  and  the  cradle 
will  be    empty,  and    the  world  will  be    empty,  and    your    soul  will    be    empty. 

(168) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


169 


No  little  feet  standing  on  the  stairs.  No  toys  scattered  on  the  carpet.  No 
quick  following  from  room  to  room.  No  strange  and  wondering  questions. 
No  upturned  face, 
with  laughing 
blue  eyes,  come  for 
a  kiss ;  but  only 
a  grave,  and  a 
wreath  of  white 
blossoms  on  the 
top  of  it,  and  bitter 
desolation,  and  a 
sighing  at  night- 
fall with  no  one  to 
put  to  bed,  and  a 
wet  pillow.  The 
heavenly  Shep- 
herd will  take  that 
lamb  safely  any- 
how, whether  you 
have  been  faithful 
or  unfaithful,  but 
would  it  not  have 
been  pleasanter  if 
you  could  have 
heard  from  those 
lips  the  praises  of 
Christ  ?  I  never 
read  anything 
more  beautiful 
than  this  about  a 
child's  departure. 
The  account  said, 
"She  folded  her 
hands,  kissed  her 
mother  good-b}^, 
sang  her  hymn, 
turned  her  face  to 
the  wall,  said  her 
little  prayer,  and 
then  swung  off  in- 

1  ,,  a  song  without  words. — Front  the  Painting  by  C.   burton  Barber. 

to  eternal   peace." 

Oh,  if  I  could  gather  up  in    one    paragraph    the    last    words    of  the    little 
ones  who  have  gone  out  from  these  Christian  circles,  and    I  could    picture   the 


170 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


calm  looks,  and  the  folded  hands,  and  sweet  departure,  methinks   it   would  be 
grand  and  beautiful  as  one  of  heaven's  great  doxologies ! 

I  next  speak  of  Christ  as  the  old  man's  song.  Quick  music  loses  its 
charm  for  the  aged  ear.  The  school  girl  asks  for  a  schottisch  or  a  glee ;  but 
her  grandmother  asks  for  "  Balerma,"  or  the  "  Portuguese  Hymn."  Fifty 
years  of  trouble  have  tamed  the  spirit,  and  the  keys  of  the  music-board  must 
have    a    solemn    tread.     Though    the    voice    may  be    tremulous,  so  that    grand- 


SLUMBER    SONG. 


father  will  not  trust  it  in  church,  still  he  has  the  psalm  book  open  before 
him,  and  he  sings  with  his  soul.  He  hums  his  grandchild  asleep  with  the 
same  tune  he  sang  forty  years  ago  in  the  old  country  meeting-house.  Some 
day  the  choir  sings  a  tune  so  old  that  the  young  people  do  not  know  it;  but 
it  starts  the  tears  down  the  cheek  of  the  aged  man,  for  it  reminds  him  of  the 
revival  scene  in  which  he  participated,  and  of  the  radiant  faces  that  long  since 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


171 


went    to    dust,  and    of   the    gray-haired    minister    leaning   over  the    pulpit  and 
sounding  the  tidings  of  great  joy. 

I  was  one  Thanksgiving  Day  in  my  pulpit,  in  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  and  Rev. 
Daniel  Waldo,  at  ninety-eight  years  of  age,  stood  beside  me.  The  choir  sang 
a  tune.     I    said :    "  I    am    sorry  they  sang    that    new    tune ;    nobody    seems    to 


SUNG  TO  SLEEP. 


know  it."      "  Bless    you,  my  son,"    said   the   old   man,  "  I   heard  that   seventy 
years  ago." 

There  was  a  song  to-day  that  touched  the  life  of  the  aged  with  holy  fire, 
and  kindled  a  glory  on  their  vision  that  our  younger  eyesight  cannot  see.  It 
was  the  song  of  salvation — Jesus,  who   fed  them   all    their   lives    long :   Jesu » 


172  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

who  wiped  away  their  tears ;  Jesus,  who  stood  by  them  when  all  else  failed ; 
Jesus,  in  whose  name  their  marriage  was  consecrated,  and  whose  resurrection 
has  poured  light  upon  the  graves  of  their  departed.  Blessed  the  Bible  in 
which  spectacled  old  age  reads  the  promise,  "  I  will  never  leave  you,  never 
forsake  you ! "  Blessed  the  staff  on  which  the  worn-out  pilgrim  totters  on 
toward  the  welcome  of  his  Redeemer !  Blessed .  the  hymn-book  in  which 
the  faltering  tongue  and  the  failing  eyes  find  Jesus,  the  old  man's  song. 

I  speak  to  you  again  of  Jesus  as  the  night-song.  Job  speaks  of  Him  who 
giveth  songs  in  the  night.  John  Welch,  the  old  Scotch  minister,  used  to  put 
a  plaid  across  his  bed  on  cold  nights,  and  some  one  asked  him  why  he  put 
that  there.  He  said,  "  Oh,  sometimes  in  the  night  I  want  to  sing  the  praise 
of  Jesus,  and  to  get  down  and  pray;  then  I  just  take  that  plaid  and  wrap  it 
around  me,  to  keep  myself  from  the  cold."  Songs  in  the  night !  Night  of 
trouble  has  come  down  upon  many  of  you.  Commercial  losses  put  out  one 
star,  slanderous  abuse  put  out  another  star,  domestic  bereavement  has  put  out 
a  thousand  lights,  and  gloom  has  been  added  to  gloom,  and  chill  to  chill,  and 
sting  to  sting,  and  one  midnight  has  seemed  to  borrow  the  fold  from  another 
midnight  to  wrap  itself  in  more  unbearable  darkness  ;  but  Christ  has  spoken 
peace  to  your  heart,  and  you  can  sing : 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  billows  near  me  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high; 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past ; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide — 

Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last. 

SONGS   IN   THE   NIGHT. 

Songs  in  the  nignt  Songs  in  the  night !  For  the  sick,  who  have  no 
one  to  turn  the  hot  pillow,  no  one  to  put  the  taper  on  the  stand,  no  one  to 
put  ice  on  the  temple,  or  pour  out  the  soothing  anodyne,  or  utter  one  cheer- 
ful word — yet  songs  in  the  night !  For  the  poor,  who  freeze  in  the  winter's 
cold,  and  swelter  in  the  summer's  heat,  and  munch  the  hard  crusts  that  bleed 
the  sore  gums,  and  shiver  under  blankets  that  cannot  any  longer  be  patched, 
and  tremble  because  rent  day  is  come  and  they  may  be  set  out  on  the  side- 
walk, and  looking  into  the  starved  face  of  the  child  and  seeing  famine  there 
and  death  there,  coming  home  from  the  bakery  and  saying  in  the  presence  of 
the  little  famished  ones,  "  O  my  God,  flour  has  gone  up ! "  Yet  songs  in  the 
night !  Songs  in  the  night !  For  the  widow  who  goes  to  get  the  back  pay  of 
her  husband,  slain  by  the  "  sharpshooters,"  and  knows  it  is  the  last  help  she 
will  have,  moving  out  of  a  comfortable  home  in  desolation,  with  pale  cheek 
and  lustreless   eye.     Yet    songs    in    the   night !     For    the    soldier   in   the   field 


(173) 


i74  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

hospital,  no  surgeon  to  bind  up  the  gunshot  fracture,  no  water  for  the  hot 
lips,  no  kind  hand  to  brush  away  the  flies  from  the  fresh  wound,  no  one  to 
take  the'  loving  farewell,  the  groaning  of  others  poured  into  his  own  groan, 
the  blasphemy  of  others  plowing  up  his  own  spirit,  the  condensed  bitterness 
of  dying  away  from  home  among  strangers.  Yet  .songs  in  the  night!  Songs 
in  the  night !  "  Ah ! "  said  one  dying  soldier,  "  tell  my  mother  that  last 
night  there  was  not  one  cloud  between  my  soul  and  Jesus."  Songs  in  the 
night !     Songs  in  the  night ! 

The  Sabbath  day  has  come.  From  the  altars  of  10,000  churches  has 
smoked  up  the  savor  of  sacrifice.  Ministers  of  the  gospel  are  now  preaching 
in  plain  English,  in  broad  Scotch,  in  flowing  Italian,  in  harsh  Choctaw.  God's 
people  have  assembled  in  Hindoo  temple,  and  Moravian  church,  and  Quaker 
meeting  house,  and  sailors'  Bethel,  and  king's  chapel,  and  high-towered  cathe- 
dral. They  sang,  and  the  song  floated  off  amidst  the  spice  groves,  or  struck 
the  icebergs,  or  floated  off  into  the  Western  pines,  or  was  drowned  in  the 
clamor  of  the  great  cities.  Lumbermen  sang  it,  and  the  factory  girls,  and  the 
children  in  the  Sabbath  class,  and  the  trained  choirs  in  great  assemblages. 
Trappers,  with  the  same  voice  with  which  they  shouted  yesterday  in  the  stag 
hunt,  and  mariners,  with  throats  that  only  a  few  days  ago  sounded  in  the 
hoarse  blast  of  the  sea  hurricane,  they  sang  it.  One  theme  for  the  sermons. 
One  burden  for  the  song.  Jesus  for  the  invocation.  Jesus  for  the  Scripture 
lesson.  Jesus  for  the  baptismal  font.  Jesus  for  the  sacramental  cup.  Jesus  for 
the  benediction. 

But  the  day  will  go  by.  It  will  roll  away  on  swift  wheels  of  light  and 
love.  Again  the  churches  will  be  lighted.  Tides  of  people  again  setting  down 
the  streets.  Whole  families  coming  up  the  church  aisle.  We  must  have  one 
more  sermon,  two  prayers,  three  songs  and  one  benediction.  What  shall  we 
preach?  What  shall  we  read?  What  shall  it  be,  children?  Aged  men  and 
women,  what  shall  it  be  ?     Young  men  and  maidens,  what  shall  it  be  ? 

THE   EVERLASTING   SONG. 

We  sing  His  birth — the  barn  that  sheltered  Him,  the  mother  that  nursed 
Him,  the  cattle  that  fed  beside  Him,  the  angels  that  woke  up  the  shep- 
herds, scattering  light  over  the  midnight  hills.  We  sing  His  ministry — the 
tears  He  wiped  away  from  the  eyes  of  the  orphans,  the  lame  men  who  forgot 
their  crutches,  the  damsel  who  from  the  bier  bounded  out  into  the  sunlight, 
her  locks  shaking  down  over  the  flushed  cheek,  the  hungry  thousand  who  broke 
the  bread  as  it  blossomed  into  larger  loaves — that  miracle  by  which  a  boy  with 
five  loaves  and  two  fishes  became  the  sutler  for  a  whole  army.  We  sing  His 
sorrows — His  stone-bruised  feet,  His  aching  heart,  His  mountain  loneliness,  His 
desert  hunger,  His  storm-pelted  body,  the  eternity  of  anguish  that  shot 
through  His  last  moments,  and  the  immeasurable  ocean  of  torment  that  heaved 
up  against    His    cross    in   one    foaming,  omnipotent  surge,  the  sun  dashed  or.t, 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


l75 


and  the  dead,  shroud-wrapped,  breaking  open  their  sepulchres  and  rushing  out 
to  see  what  was  the  matter.  We  sing  His  resurrection — the  guard  that  could 
not  keep  Him,  the  sorrow  of  His  disciples,  the  cloud  piling  up  on  either  side 
in  pillared  splendors  as  He  went  through  treading  the  pathless  air,  higher  and 
higher,  until  He  came  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  all  heaven  kept  jubilee  at 
the  return  of  the  conqueror. 

On  earth  we  sing  harvest  songs  as  the  wheat  comes  into  the  barn  and 
the  barracks  are  filled.  You  know  there  is  no  such  time  on  a  farm  as  when 
they  get  the  crops  in ;  and  so  in  heaven  it  will  be  a  harvest  song  on  the  part 
of  those  who  on  earth  sowed  in  tears  and  reaped  in  joy.  Lift  up  your  heads, 
ye  everlasting  gates,  and  let  the  sheaves  come  in !  Angels  shout  all  through 
the  heavens,  and  multitudes  come  down  the  hills,  crying:  "Harvest  home! 
harvest  home ! " 

There  is  nothing 
more  bewitching  to 
one's  ear  than  the 
song  of  sailors  far  out 
at  sea,  whether  in  day 
or  night,  as  they  pull 
away  at  the  ropes — 
the  music  is  weird  and 
thrilling.  So  the  song 
in  heaven  will  be  a 
sailor's  song.  The)' 
were  voyagers  once, 
and  thought  they  could 
never  get  to  shore,  and 
before  they  could  get 
things  snug  and  trim  the  cyclone  struck  them.  Biit  now  they  are  safe. 
Once  they  went  with  damaged  rigging,  guns  of  distress  booming  through  the 
storm ;  but  the  pilot  came  aboard  and  he  brought  them  into  the  harbor. 
Now  they  sing  of  the  breakers  past,  the  light-houses  that  showed  them  where 
to  sail,  the  pilot  that  took  them  through  the  straits,  the  eternal  shore  on 
which  they  landed. 

Ay,  it  will  be  the  children's  song.  You  know  very  well  that  the  vast 
majority  of  our  race  die  in  infancy,  and  it  is  estimated  that  eighteen  thousand 
millions  of  the  little  ones  are  standing  before  God.  When  they  shall  rise  up 
about  the  throne  to  sing — the  millions  and  the  millions  of  the  little  ones — ah  ! 
that  will  be  music  for  you !  These  played  in  the  streets  of  Babylon  and 
Thebes  ;  these  plucked  lilies  from  the  foot  of  Olivet  while  Christ  was  preach- 
ing about  them ;  these  waded  in  Siloam ;  these  were  victims  of  Herod's  massa- 
cre ;  these  were  thrown  to  crocodiles  or  into  the  fire ;  these  came  up  from 
Christian    homes,    and    these   were    foundlings    on    the    cit}-  commons — children 


DESTRUCTION    OF   THE   BABES. 


176 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


everywhere  in  all  that  laud ;  children  in  the  towers,  children  on  the  seas  of 
glass,  children  on  the  battlements.  Ah !  if  yon  do  not  like  children  do  not 
go  there.  They  are  in  vast  majority,  and  what  a  song  when  they  lift  it  around 
about  the  throne ! 

The  Christian  sing- 
ers and  composers  of  all 
ages  will  be  there  to 
join  in  that  song. 
Thomas  Hastings  will 
be  there.  Lowell  Mason 
will  be  there.  Brad- 
bury will  be  there. 
Beethoven  and  Mozart 
will  be  there.  They 
who  sounded  the  cym- 
bals and  the  trumpets 
in  the  ancient  temples 
will  be  there.  The  40,- 
000  harpers  that  stood 
at  the  ancient  dedica- 
tion will  be  there.  The 
200  singers  that  as- 
sisted on  that  day  will 
be  there.  Patriarchs 
who  lived  amidst  thresh- 
ing-floors, shepherds 
who  watched  amidst 
Chaldean  hills,  prophets 
who  walked  with  long 
beards  and  coarse  ap- 
parel, pronouncing  woe 
against  ancient  abomi- 
nations, will  meet  the 
more  recent  martyrs  who 
went  up  with  leaping 
cohorts  of  fire  ;  and  some  will  speak  of  the  Jesus  of  whom  they  prophesied, 
and  others  of  the  Jesus  for  whom  they  died.  Oh,  what  a  song!  It  came  to 
John  upon  Patmos,  it  came  to  Calvin  in  the  prison,  it  dropped  to  John  Knox 
in  the  fire,  and  sometimes  that  song  has  come  to  your  ear,  perhaps,  for  I 
really  do  think  it  sometimes  breaks  over  the  battlements  of  heaven. 

THE   CHOIR   OF    HEAVEN. 

A  Christian  woman,  the  wife    of  a  minister  of  the    gospel,  was    dying   in 
the  parsonage,  near  the  old  church,  where    on    Saturday  night    the    choir   used 


HENRY   V.    AT  THE    BATTLE   OF   AC.INCOURT. 


.     THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  177 

to  assemble  and  rehearse  for  the  following  Sabbath,  and  she  said :  "  How 
strangely  sweet  the  choir  rehearses  to-night ;  they  have  been  rehearsing 
there  for  an  hour." 

"  No,"  said  some  one  about  her ;    "  the  choir  is  not  rehearsing  >fc#<hight." 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "I  know  they  are.  I  hear  them  sing;  how  very 
sweetly  they  sing!" 

Now,  it  was  not  a  choir  of  earth  that  she  heard,  but  the  choir  of  heaven. 
I  think  that  Jesus  sometimes  sets  ajar  the  door  of  heaven,  and  a  passage  of 
that  rapture  greets  our  ears.  The  minstrels  of  heaven  strike  such  a  tremen- 
dous strain  the  walls  of  jasper  cannot  hold  it. 

The  first  great  concert  I  ever  attended  was  in  New  York,  when  Julien,  in 
the  "  Crystal  Palace,"  stood  before  hundreds  of  singers  and  hundreds  of 
players  upon  instruments.  Some  of  you  may  remember  that  occasion  ;  it  was 
the  first  one  of  the  kind  at  which  I  was  present,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it. 
I  saw  that  one  man  standing,  and  with  the  hand  and  foot  wield  that  great 
harmony,  beating  the  time.  It  was  to  me  overwhelming.  But,  oh,  the  grander 
scene  when  they  shall  come  from  the  East  and  from  the  West,  ana  fr>',"_  cae 
North  and  from  the  South,  "a  great  multitude  that  no  man  can  rcubeiy' 
into  the  temple  of  the  skies,  host  beyond  host,  rank  beyond  rank,  gallery 
above  gallery,  and  Jesus  shall  stand  before  that  great  host  to  conduct  the 
harmony,  with  His  wounded  hands  and  His  wounded  feet !  Like  the  voice  of 
many  waters,  like  the  voice  of  mighty  thunderiugs,  they  shall  cry:  "Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  blessings,  and  riches,  and  honor,  and 
glory,  and  power,  world  without  end.  Amen  and  Amen ! "  Oh,  if  my  ear 
shall  hear  no  other  sweet  sounds,  may  I  hear  that !  If  I  join  no  other  glad 
assemblage,  may  I  join  that. 

I  was  reading  of  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  in  which  Henry  V.  figured  ;  and 
it  is  said  after  the  battle  was  won,  gloriously  won,  the  king  wanted  to 
acknowledge  the  divine  interposition,  and  he  ordered  the  chaplain  to  read  the 
Psalm  of  David ;  and  when  he  came  to  the  word,  "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  but 
unto  Thy  name  be  the  praise,"  the  king  dismounted,  and  all  the  cavalry 
dismounted,  and  all  the  great  host,  officers  and  men,  threw  themselves  on  their 
faces.  Oh,  at  the  story  of  the  Saviour's  love  and  the  Saviour's  deliverance, 
shall  we  not  prostrate  ourselves  before  Him  now,  hosts  of  earth  and  hosts  of 
heaven,  falling  upon  our  faces  and  crying :  "  Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but 
unto  Thy  name  be  the  glory !  " 
12 


Irofan'ttg. 


THE  VULGARITY  OF  A  VILE    HABIT,.  AND  STARTLING  INCIDENTS 
OF  ITS   SWIFT   PUNISHMENT. 

it 

*  STORY  oriental  and  marvellous  is  that  of  Job.  Job  was 
the  richest  man  in  all  the  East.  He  had  camels  and 
oxen,  and  asses  and  sheep,  and,  what  would  have  made 
him  rich  without  anything  else,  seven  sons  and  three 
daughters.  It  was  the  habit  of  these  children  to 
gather  together  for  family  reunion.  One  day  Job  is 
thinking  of  his  children  as  gathered  together  at  a 
banquet  at  the  elder  brother's  house. 

While  the  old  man  is  seated  at  his  tent  door  he 
sees  some  one  running,  evidently,  from    his    manner, 
bringing  bad  news.     What  is  th£  matter  now? 

"  Oh,"  says  the  messenger,  "  a  foraging  party  of  Sabeans  have 
fallen  upon  the  oxen  and  the  asses  and  destroyed  them  and  butch- 
ered all  the  servants  except  myself." 

Stand  aside.  Another  messenger  running.  What  is  the  matter 
now? 

"  Oh,"  says  the  man,  "  the  lightning  has  struck  the  sheep  and 
the  shepherds,  and  all  the  shepherds  are  destroyed  except  myself." 
Stand  aside.  Another  messenger  running.  What  is  the  mat- 
ter now?  "Oh,"  he  says,  "the  Chaldeans  have  captured  the  camels  and  slain 
all  the  camel  drivers  except  myself." 

Stand  aside.  Another  messenger  running.  What  is  the  matter  now? 
"  Oh,"  he  says,  "  a  hurricane  struck  the  four  corners  of  the  tent  where  your 
children  were  assembled  at  the  banquet,  and  they  are  all  dead." 

But  the  chapter  of  calamity  has  not  ended.  Job  was  smitten  with  elephanti- 
asis, or  black  leprosy.  Tumors  from  head  to  foot,  forehead  ridged  with  tuber- 
cles, eyelashes  fall  out,  nostrils  excoriated,  voice  destroyed,  intolerable  exhala- 
tions from  the  entire  body,  until  with  none  to  dress  his  sores,  he  sits  down  in 
the  ashes,  with  nothing  but  pieces  of  broken  pottery  to  use  in  the  surgery  of 
his  wounds.  At  this  moment,  when  he  needed  all  encouragement  and  all  con- 
solation, his  wife  comes  in,  in  a  fret  and  a  rage,  and  says : 

"  This  is  intolerable.  Our  property  gone,  our  children  slain,  and  now  you 
covered  up  with  this  loathsome  and  disgusting  disease.  Why  don't  you  swear  ? 
Curse  God,  and  die!" 

(178) 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


179 


PROFANITY   EVERYWHERE. 

Ah,  Job  knew  right  well  that  swearing  would  not  cure  one  of  the  tumors 
of  his  agonized  body,  would  not  bring  back  one  of  his  destroyed  camels,  would 
not  restore  one  of  his  dead  children.  He  knew  that  profanity  would  only  make 
the  pain  more  unbearable,  and  the  poverty  more  distressing,  and  the  bereave- 
ment more  excruciating.  But  judging  from  the  profanity  abroad  in  our  day, 
you  might  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  some  great  advantage  to  be 
reaped  from  the  habit  or  custom. 


A  youno  man  of  the  world. — Front  the  Painting  by  H.  Helmick. 


Blasphemy  is  all  abroad.  You  hear  it  in  every  direction.  The  drayman 
swearing  at  his  cart,  the  sewing  girl  imprecating  the  tangled  skein,  the  account- 
ant cursing  the  long  line  of  troublesome  figures.  Swearing  at  the  store,  swear- 
ing in  the  loft,  swearing  in  the  cellar,  swearing  on  the  street,  swearing  in 
the  factory.  Children  swear;  men  swear;  women  swear.  Swearing  from  the 
rough  calling  on  the  Almighty  in  the  low  restaurant  clear  up  to  the  reckless  "  O 
Lord !"  of  a  glittering  drawing-room ;  and  the  one  is  as  much  blasphemy  as 
the  other. 


180  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

There  are  times  when  we  must  cry  out  to  the  Lord,  by  reason  of  our 
physical  agony  or  our  mental  distress,  and  that  is  only  throwing  out  our  weak 
hand  toward  the  strong  arm  of  a  father.  It  was  no  profanity  when  James  A. 
Garfield,  shot  in  the  Washington  depot,  cried  out :  "  My  God,  what  does  this- 
mean  !"  There  is  no  profanity  in  calling  out  upon  God  in  the  day  of  trouble, 
in  the  day  of  darkness,  in  the  day  of  physical  anguish,  in  the  day  of  bereave- 
ment ;  but  I  am  speaking  now  of  the  triviality  and  of  the  recklessness  with 
which  the  name  of  God  is  sometimes  used.  The  whole  land  is  cursed 
with  it. 

A  gentleman  coming  from  the  far  West  sat  in  the  car  day  after  day  behind 
two  persons  who  were  indulging  in  profanity,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  he 
would  make  a  record  of  their  profanities,  and  at  the  end  of  two  days  several 
sheets  of  paper  were  filled  with  these  imprecations,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
journey  he  handed  the  paper  to  one  of  the  persons  in  front  of  him. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  the  man,  "  that  we  have  uttered  so  many  profanities 
the  last  few  days  ?" 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  gentleman. 

"  Then,"  said  the  man  who  had  taken  the  manuscript,  "  I  will  never 
swear  again." 

But  it  is  a  comparatively  unimportant  thing  if  a  man  makes  record  of 
our  improprieties  of  speech.  The  more  memorable  consideration  is  that  every 
improper  word,  every  oath  uttered,  has  a  record  in  the  book  of  God's  remem- 
brance, and  that  the  day  will  come  when  all  our  crimes  of  speech,  if  unre- 
pented  of,  will  be  our  condemnation.  I  shall  not  deal  in  abstractions ;  I  hate 
abstractions.  I  am  going  to  have  a  plain  talk  with  the  world,  through  the 
medium  of  this  book,  about  a  habit  that  all  admit  to  be  wrong. 

The  habit  grows  in  the  community  from  the  fact  that  young  people  think 
it  manly  to  swear.  Little  children,  hardly  able  to  walk  straight  on  the  street, 
yet  have  enough  distinctness  to  let  you  know  that  they  are  damning  their  own 
souls,  or  damning  the  souls  of  others.  It  is  an  awful  thing  the  first  time  the 
little  feet  are  lifted  to  have  them  set  down  on  the  burning  pavement  of 
hell ! 

Between  sixteen  and  twenty  years  of  age  there  is  apt  to  come  a  time  when 
a  young  man  is  as  much  ashamed  of  not  being  able  to  swear  gracefully  as  he 
is  of  the  dizziness  of  his  first  cigar.  He  has  his  hat,  his  boot  and  his  coat  of 
the  right  pattern,  and  now,  if  he  can  only  swear  without  awkwardness,  and  as 
well  as  his  comrades,  he  believes  he  is  in  the  fashion.  There  are  young  men 
who  walk  in  an  atmosphere  of  imprecation — oaths  on  their  lips,  under  their 
tongues,  nesting  in  their  shock  of  hair.  They  abstain  from  it  in  the  elegant 
drawing-room,  but  the  street  and  the  club  house  ring  with  their  profanities. 
They  have  no  regard  for  God,  although  they  have  great  respect  for  the  ladies  ! 
My  young  brother,  there  is  no  manliness  in  that.  The  most  ungentlemanly 
thing  a  man  can  do  is  to  swear. 


* 


THE  PATHWAY    OF  LIFE. 


181 


WHERE  CHILDREN   LEARN   TO   SWEAR. 

Fathers  foster  this  great  crime.  There  are  parents  who  are  very  cautious 
not  to  swear  in  the  presence  of  their  children ;  in  a  moment  of  sudden  anger 
they  look  around  to  see  if  the  children  are  present  when  they  indulge  in  this 
habit.  Do  you  not  know,  O  father,  that  your  child  is  aware  of  the  fact  that 
you  swear?     He  overheard  you  in  the  next  room,  or  some  one  has  informed  him 


tough  customers. — From  the  Painting  by  J.  G.  Brown. 

of  your  habit.  He  is  practising  now.  In  ten  years  he  will  swear  as  well  as 
you  do.  Do  not,  O  father,  be  under  the  delusion  that  you  may  swear  and 
your  son  not  know  it.  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  start  the  habit  in  a  family — 
the  father  to  be  profane,  and  then  to  have  the  echo  of  his  example  come  back 
from  other  generations,  so  that  generations  after  generations  curse  the  Lord. 
The    crime    is    also    fostered    by    master  mechanics,   boss    carpenters,  those 


i8a  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

who  are  at  the  head  of  men  in  hat  factories,  and  in  dock  yards,  and  at  the 
head  of  great  business  establishments.  When  you  go  down  to  look  at  the 
work  of  the  scaffolding, 'and  you  find  it  is  not  done  right,  what  do  you  say? 
It  is  not  praying,  is  it  ?  The  employer  swears ;  his  employe  is  tempted  to 
swear.     The  man  says: 

"  I  don't  know  why  my  employer,  worth  $50,000  or  $100,000,  should  have 
any  luxury  I  should  be  denied,  simply  because  I  am  poor.  Because  I  am 
poor  and  dependent  on  a  day's  wages,  haven't  I  as  much  right  to  swear  as  he 
has,  with  his  large  income?" 

Employers  swear,  and  that  makes  so  many  employes  swear. 

The  habit  also  comes  from  infirmity  of  temper.  There  are  a  good  many 
people  who,  when  they  are  at  peace,  have  righteousness  of  speech,  but  when 
angered  they  blaze  with  imprecation.  Perhaps  all  the  rest  of  the  year  they 
talk  in  right  language,  but  now  they  pour  out  the  fury  of  a  whole  year  in 
one  red-hot  paragraph  of  five  minutes.  I  knew  of  a  man  who  excused  himself 
for  the  habit,  saying,  "I  only  swear  once  in  a  great  while.  I  must  do  that 
just  to  clear  myself  out." 

The  habit  comes  also  from  the  profuse  use  of  by-words.  The  transition 
from  a  by-word  which  may  be  perfectly  harmless  to  imprecation  and  profanity, 
is  not  a  very  large  transition.  It  is  "My  stars!"  and  "Mercy  on  me!"  and 
"Good  gracious!"  and  "  By  George ! "  and  "By  Jove!"  and  you  go  on  with  that 
a  little  while,  and  then  you  swear.  These  words,  perfectly  harmless  in  them- 
selves, are  next  door  to  imprecation  and  blasphemy.  A  profuse  use  of  by- words 
always  ends  in  profanity.  The  habit  is  creeping  up  into  the  highest  styles 
of  society.  Women  have  no  patience  with  flat  and  unvarnished  profanity. 
They  will  order  a  man  out  of  the  parlor  indulging  in  blasphemy,  and  yet  you 
will  sometimes  find  them  with  fairy  fan  to  the  face,  and  under  chandeliers 
which  bring  no  blush  to  their  cheek,  taking  on  their  lips  the  holiest  of  names 
in  utter  triviality. 

Why,  my  readers,  the  English  language  is  comprehensive  and  capable 
of  expressing  all  manner  of  feeling  and  every  degree  of  energy.  Are  you 
happy,  Noah  Webster  will  give  you  a  thousand  words  with  which  to  express 
your  exhilaration.  Are  you  righteously  indignant,  there  are  whole  armories 
in  the  vocabulary,  righteous  vocabulary — whole  armies  of  denunciation,  and 
scorn,  and  sarcasm,  and  irony,  and  caricature,  and  wrath.  You  express  your- 
self against  some  meanness  or  hypocrisy  in  all  the  oaths  that  ever  smoked  ti  ■ 
from  the  pit,  and  I  will  come  right  on  after  you  and  give  you  a  thousandfold 
more  emphasis  of  denunciation  to  the  same  meanness  and  the  same  hypocrisy 
in  words  across  which  no  slime  has  ever  trailed,  and  into  which  the  fires 
of  hell  have  never  shot  their  forked  tongues — the  pure,  the  innocent,  God- 
honored  Anglo-Saxon  in  which  Milton  sang,  and  John  Bunyan  dreamed  and 
Shakespeare  dramatized. 

There    is    no   excuse    for    profanity   when    we    have    such    a   magnificent 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


183 


language — such  a  flow  of  good  words,  potent  words,  mighty  words,  words  just 
to  suit  every  crisis  and  every  case.  Whatever  be  the  cause  of  it,  profanity  is 
on  the  increase,  and  if  you  do  not  know  it,  it  is  because  your  ears  have  been 
hardened  by  the 
din  of  impreca- 
tions so  that 
you  are  not 
stirred  and 
moved  as  you 
ought  to  be  by 
profanities  in 
these  cities 
which  are 
enough  to  bring 
a  hurricane  of 
fire  like  that 
which  consumed 
Sodom. 

Do  you  know 
that  this  trivial 
use  of  God's 
name  results  in 
perjury?  Do 
you  know  that 
people  who  take 
the  name  of 
God  on  their 
lips  in  reck- 
lessness and 
thoughtlessness 
are  fostering 
the  crime  of 
perj  ury  ?  Make 
the  name  of 
God  a  foot-ball 
in  the  com- 
munity, and  it 
has  no  power 
when  in  court 
room  and  in  leg- 
islative assembly  it  is  employed  in  solemn  adjuration!  See  the  way  sometimes  they 
administer  the  oath :  " S'help  you  God — kiss  the  book!"  Smuggling,  which  is 
always  a  violation  of  the  oath,  becomes  in  some  circles  a  grand  joke.     You  say 


A   CLOUD   ON   HIS   BROW,    A   CURSE   IN   HIS   HEART. 


i84  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

to  a  man:      "How  is  it  possible  for    you    to  sell    these  goods   so  very  cheap? 
I  can't    understand  it." 

"Ah !"  he  replies,  with  a  twinkle  of  the  eye,  "  the  Custom  House  tariff 
of  these  goods  isn't  as  much  as  it  might  be."  An  oath  does  not  mean  as  much 
as  it  would  were  the  name  of  God  used  in  reverence  and  in  solemnity.  Why 
is  it  that  so  often  jurors  render  unaccountable  verdicts  and  judges  give  unac- 
countable charges,  and  useless  railroad  schemes  pass  in  our  State  capitols,  and 
there  are  most  unjust  changes  made  in  tariffs — tariff  lifted  from  one  thing  and 
put  upon  another  ? 

What  is  an  oath  ?  Anything  solemn  ?  Anything  that  calls  upon  the  Almighty? 
Anything  that  marks  an  event  in  a  man's  history  ?  Oh,  no !  It  is  kissing  the 
Book!  There  is  no  habit,  I  tell  you  plainly — and  I  write  to  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  men  to-day  who  will  thank  me  for  my  assertion — I  tell  you,  my 
brother,  there  is  no  habit  that  so  depletes  a  man's  nature  as  the  habit  of  pro- 
fanity. You  might  as  well  try  to  raise  vineyards  and  orchards  on  the  sides 
of  belching  Stromboli  as  to  raise  anything  good  in  a  heart  from  which  there 
pours  out  the  scoria  of  profanity.  You  may  swear  yourself  down ;  you  cannot 
swear  yourself  up.  When  the  Mohammedan  finds  a  piece  of  paper  he  cannot 
read,  he  puts  it  aside  very  cautiously  for  fear  the  name  of  God  may  be  on  it. 
That  is  one  extreme.  We  go  to  the  other.  Now,  what  is  the  cure  of  this 
habit  ?  It  is  a  mighty  habit.  Men  have  struggled  for  years  to  get  over  it. 
There  are  men  of  God  who  would  give  half  their  fortune  to  get  rid  of  it.  '  An 
aged  man  was  in  the  delirium  of  a  fever.  He  had  for  many  years  lived  a  most 
upright  life  and  was  honored  in  all  the  community,  but  when  he  came  into 
the  delirium  of  this  fever  he  was  full  of  imprecation  and  profanity,  and  they 
could  not  understand  it.  After  he  came  to  his  right  reason  he  explained  it. 
He  said  : 

"  When  I  was  a  young  man  I  was  very  profane.  I  conquered  the  habit, 
but  I  had  to  struggle  all  through  life.  You  haven't  for  forty  years  heard  me 
say  an  improper  word,  but  it  has  been  an  awful  struggle.  The  tiger  is  chained, 
but  he  is  alive  yet." 

HOW   TO   OVERCOME  THE   HABIT. 

If  you  would  get  rid  of  this  habit,  I  want  you,  my  friends,  to  dwell  upon 
the  uselessness  of  it.  Did  a  volley  of  oaths  ever  start  a  heavy  load?  Did 
they  ever  extirpate  meanness  from  a  customer?  Did  they  ever  collect  a  bad 
debt  ?  Did  they  ever  cure  a  toothache  ?  Did  they  ever  stop  the  twinge  of 
the  rheumatism  ?  Did  they  ever  help  you  forward  one  step  in  the  right  direc- 
tion ?  Come,  now,  tell  me,  ye  who  have  had  the  most  experience  in  this  habit, 
how  much  have  you  made  out  of  it  ?  Five  thousand  dollars  in  all  your  life  ? 
No.  One  thousand?  No.  One  hundred?  No.  One  dollar?  No.  One  cent? 
No.     If  the  habit  be  so  utterly  useless,  away  with  it. 

But  you  say :  "  I  have  struggled  to  overcome  the  habit  a  long  while,  and 
I    have    not    been    successful."     You    struggled   in    your    own    strength,    my 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


185 


brother.  If  ever  a  man  wants  God,  it  is  in  such  a  crisis  of  his  history. 
God  alone  by  His  grace  can  emancipate  you  from  that  trouble.  Call  upon 
Him  day  and  night  that  you  may  be  delivered  from  this  crime.  Remember, 
also,  in  the  cure  of  this  habit,  that  it  arouses  God's  indignation.  The  Bible 
reiterates  from  chapter  to  chapter,  and  verse  after  verse,  the  fact  that  profan- 
ity accurses  this  life  and  that  it  makes  a  man  miserable  for  eternity.  There 
is  not  a  sin  in  all  the  catalogue  that  is  so  often  peremptorily  and  suddenly 
punished  in  this  world  as  the  sin  of  profanity.     There  is   not   a  city  or  a  vil- 


TEIAING  THE  SECRET  OF  A  BAD  HABIT. 


iage  but  can  give  an  illustration  of  a  man  struck  down  at  the  moment  of 
imprecation.  A  couple  of  years  ago,  briefly  referring  to  this  in  a  sermon,  I 
gave  some  instances  in  which  God  had  struck  swearers  dead  at  the  moment 
of  their  profanity.  That  sermon  brought  to  me  from  many  parts  of  this  land 
and  other  lands  statements  of  similar  cases  of  instantaneous  visitation  from 
God  upon  blasphemers.  My  opinion  is  that  such  cases  occur  somewhere  every 
day,  but  for  various  reasons  they  are  not  reported. 


1 86  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


BLASPHEMERS   PUNISHED. 


In  Scotland  a  club  assembled  every  week  for  purposes  of  wickedness,  and 
there  was  a  competition  as  to  which  could  use  the  most  horrid  oath,  and  the 
man  who  succeeded  was  to  be  president  of  the  club.  The  competition  went 
on.  A  man  uttered  an  oath -which  confounded  all  his  comrades,  and  he  was 
made  president  of  the  club.  His  tongue  began  to  swell,  and  it  protruded  from 
the  mouth,  and  he  could  not  draw  it  in,  and  he  died,  and  the  physicians  said : 
"This  is  the  strangest  thing  we  ever  saw;  we  never  saw  any  account  in  the 
books  like  unto  it ;  we-  can't  understand  it."  I  understand  it.  He  cursed  God, 
and  died. 

At  Catskill,  N.  Y.,  a  group  of  men  stood  in  a  blacksmith's  shop  during 
a  violent  thunder-storm.  There  came  a  crash  of  thunder  and  some  of  the 
men  trembled.  One  man  said :  "  Why,  I  don't  see  what  you  are  afraid  of.  I 
am  not  afraid  to  go  out  in  front  of  the  shop  and  defy  the  Almighty.  I  am 
not  afraid  of  lightning."  And  he  laid  a  wager  on  the  subject,  and  he  went 
out,  and  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  heavens,  crying :  "  Strike,  if  you  dare !" 
and  instantly  he  fell  under  a  bolt.  What  destroyed  him  ?  Any  mystery 
about  it?     Oh,  no.     He  cursed  God,  and  died. 

Oh,  my  brother,  God  will  not  allow  this  sin  to  go  unpunished.  There 
are  styles  of  writing  with  manifold  sheets,  so  that  a  man  writing  on  one  sheet 
writes  clear  through  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty  sheets,  and  so  every  profanity  we 
utter  goes  right  down  through  the  leaves  of  God's  book  of  remembrance.  It 
is  no  exceptional  sin.  Do  you  think  you  could  count  the  profanities  of  last 
week — the  profanities  of  office,  store,  shop,  factory  ?  They  cursed  God,  they 
cursed  His  word,  they  cursed  His  only-begotten  Son. 

One  morning,  on  Fulton  street,  as  I  was  passing  along,  I  heard  a  man 
swear  by  the  name  of  Jesus.  My  hair  lifted.  My  blood  ran  cold.  My  breath 
caught.  My  foot  halted.  Do  you  not  suppose  that  God  is  aggravated?  Do 
you  not  suppose  that  God  knows  about  it  ?  Dionysius  used  to  have  a  cave  in 
which  his  culprits  were  incarcerated,  and  he  listened  at  the  top  of  that  cave, 
and  he  could  hear  every  groan ;  he  could  hear  every  sigh,  and  he  could  hear 
every  whisper  of  those  who  were  imprisoned.  He  was  a  tyrant.  God  is  not 
a  tyrant ;  but  He  bends  over  this  world  and  He  hears  everything — every  voice 
of  praise,  every  voice  of  imprecation.  He  hears  it  all.  The  oaths  seem  to  die 
on  the  air,  but  they  have  eternal  echo.  They  come  back  from  the  ages  to 
come. 

Listen !  Listen !  "  All  blasphemers  shall  have  their  place  in  the  lake 
which  burnetii  with  fire  and  brimstone,  which  is  the  second  death."  And  if, 
according  to  the  theory  of  some,  a  man  commits  in  the  next  world  the  sins 
which  he  committed  in  this  world — if  unpardoned,  unregenerated — think  of  a 
man's  going  on  cursing  in  the  name  of  God  to  all  eternity. 


i 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  187 

GROWTH   OF   SWEARING. 

The  habit  grows.  You  start  with  a  small  oath,  you  will  come  to  the 
large  oath.  I  saw  a  man  die  with  an  oath  between  his  teeth.  Voltaire  only 
gradually  came  to  his  tremendous  imprecation ;  but  the  habit  grew  on  him 
until  in  the  last  moment,  supposing  Christ  stood  at  the  bed,  he  exclaimed : 
"Curse  that  wretch?  Curse  that  wretch?"  Oh,  my  brother,  you  begin  to 
swear  and  there  is  nothing  impossible  for  you  in  the  wrong  direction. 

Who  is  this  God  whose  name  you  are  using  in  swearing  ?  Who  is  He  ? 
Is  He  a  tyrant  ?  Has  He  pursued  you  all  your  life  long  ?  Has  He  starved 
you,  frozen  you,  tyrannized  over  you  ?  No.  He  has  loved  you ;  He  has 
sheltered  you ;  He  watched  you  last  night ;  He  will  watch  you  to-night.  He 
wants  to  love  you,  wants  to  help  you,  wants  to  save  you,  wants  to  comfort 
you.  He  was  your  father's  God  and  your  mother's  God.  He  has  housed  them 
from  the  blast,  and  He  wants  to  shelter  you.  Will  you  spit  in  His  face  by 
an  imprecation  ?     Will  you  ever  thrust  Him  back  by  an  oath  ? 

Who  is  this  Jesus,  whose  name  I  heard  in  the  imprecation  ?  Has  He 
pursued  you  all  your  life  long?  What  vile  thing  has  He  done  to  you  that 
you  should  so  dishonor  His  name  ?  Why,  He  was  the  lamb  whose  blood 
simmered  in  the  fires  of  sacrifice  for  you.  He  is  the  brother  that  took  off 
His  crown  that  you  might  put  it  on.  He  has  pursued  you  all  your  life  long 
with  mercy.  He  wants  you  to  love  Him — wants  you  to  serve  Him.  He 
comes  with  streaming  eyes  and  broken  heart  and  blistered  feet  to  save  you. 
On  the  craft  of  our  doomed  humanity  He  pushed  out  into  the  sea  to  take 
you  off  the  wreck ! 

Where  is  the  hand  that  will  ever  be  lifted  in  imprecation  again  !  Let  that 
hand,  now  blood-tipped,  be  lifted  that  I  may  see  it.  Not  one.  Where  is  the 
voice  that  will  ever  be  uttered  in  dishonoring  the  name  of  that  Christ  ?  Let  it 
speak  now.  Not  one.  Not  one.  Oh,  I  am  glad  to  know  that  all  these  vices 
of  the  community  and  these  crimes  of  our  nation  will  be  gone.  Society  is  going 
to  be  bettered.  The  world  by  the  power  of  Christ's  gospel  is  going  to  be  saved, 
and  this  crime,  this  iniquity,  and  all  the  other  iniquities  will  vanish  before  the 
rising  of  the  sun  of  righteousness  upon  the  nation. 

/ 

END    OF    SIN    AND    CRIME. 

There  was  one  day  in  New  England  memorable  for  storm  and  dark- 
ness. I  believe  I  never  saw  another  such  evening.  The  clouds  which  had 
been  gathering  all  day  unlimbered  their  batteries.  The  Housatonic,  which 
flows  quietly,  save  as  the  paddles  of  pleasure  parties  rattle  the  oar  locks,  was 
lashed  into  foam,  and  the  waves  hardly  knew  where  to  lay  themselves. 

Oh!  what  a  time  it  was!  The  hills  jarred  under  the  rumbling  of  God's 
chariots.  Blinding  sheets  of  rain  drove  the  cattle  to  the  bars,  or  beat  against 
the  window  pane  as  though  to  dash  it  in.  The  grain  fields  threw  their  crowns 
of  gold  at  the  feet  of  the  storm  king.     When    night  came  in  it  was  a  double 


i88 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


night.  Its  mantle  was  torn  with  the  lightnings,  and  into  its  locks  were  twisted 
the  leaves  of  uprooted  oaks  and  the  shreds  of  canvas  torn  from  the  masts  of 
the  beached  shipping.  It  was  such  a  night  as  makes  you  thank  God  for 
shelter,  and  open  the  door  to  let  in  the  spaniel  howling  outside  with  terror. 

We  went  to  sleep  under  the  full  blast  of  heaven's  great  orchestra,  the 
forests  with  uplifted  voices,  in  chorus  that  filled,  the  mountains,  praising  the 
Lord.  We  woke  not  until  the  fingers  of  the  sunny  morn  touched  our  eyelids. 
We  looked  out  the  window  and  the  Housatonic  slept  as  quiet  as  an  infant's 
dream.  Pillars  of  clouds  set  against  the  sky  looked  like  the  castles  of  the  blest 
built  for  heavenly  hierarchs  on  the  beach  of  the  azure  sea.     All  the  trees  sparkled 


m-  -ijOaw 


THE  STORM  CHII.D  SCREAMING  AI.ONG  THE  BEACH. 


as  though  there  had  been  some  great  grief  in  heaven,  and  each  leaf  had  been 
God-appointed  to  catch  an  angel's  tear.  It  seemed  as  if  our  Father  had  looked 
upon  the  earth,  his  wayward  child,  and  stooped  to  her  tear-wet  cheek  and 
kissed  it.  So  will  the  darkness  of  sin  and  crime  leave  our  world  before  the 
dawn  of  the  morning.  The  light  shall  gild  the  city  spire  and  strike  the  forests 
of  Maine  and  the  masts  of  Mobile  and  all  between.  And  one  end  resting  on 
the  Atlantic  coast  and  the  other  resting  on  the  Pacific  beach,  God  will  spring 
a  great  rainbow  arch  of  peace,  in  token  of  everlasting  covenant  that  the  world 
shall  never  more  see  a  deluge  of  crime. 

"  But,"   says  some  one,  "  preaching  against  the  evils  of  society  will  accom- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


189 


plish  nothing.     Do  you  not  see  that  the  evils  go  right  on  ?"     I  answer,  we  are 
not  at  all  discouraged. 

It  seemed  insignificant 
for  Moses  to  stretch  his 
hand  over  the  Red  Sea. 
What  power  could  that 
have  over  the  waters  ?  But 
the  east  wind  blew  all 
night ;  the  waters  gathered 
into  two  glittering  palisades 
on  either  side.  The  billows 
reared  as  God's  hand  pulled 
back  upon  their  crystal  bits. 
Wheel  into  line,  O  Israel ! 
March!  March!  Pearls 
crash  under  the  feet.  The 
shout  of  hosts  mounting  the 
beach  answers  the  shout  of 
hosts  mid-sea,  until,  as  the 
last  line  of  the  Israelites  has 
gained  the  beach,  the  shields 
clang,  and  the  cymbals  clap, 
and  as  the  waters  whelm 
the  pursuing  foe,  the  swift- 
fingered  winds  on  the  white 
keys  of  the  foam  play  the 
grand  march  of  Israel  deliv- 
ered, and  the  awful  dirge  of 
Egyptian  overthrow.  So 
we  go  forth ;  and  stretch 
Out  the  hand  of  prayer  and 
Christian  effort  over  these 
dark,  boiling  waters  of 
crime  and  sin.  Those 
who  resist  and  deride  and 
pursue  us  will  fall  under 
the  sea,  and  there  will  be 
nothing  left  of  them  but 
here  and  there,  cast  high 
and    dry    upon    the    beach, 

the  splintered  wheel  of  a  chariot,  and,  thrust  out  from  the  surf,  the  breathless 
nostril  of  a  riderless  charger. 


a  jfallmg  Star. 


ATTILA,  THE   SCOURGE,  AND  NATIONS  THAT  HAVE  PERISHED. 

>ANY  commentators,  like  Patrick  and  Lowth,  Thomas  Scott, 
Matthew  Henry,  Albert  Barnes,  agree  irr  saying  that  the 
star  Wormwood,  mentioned  in  Revelation,  was  Attila, 
King  of  the  Huns.  He  was  so  called  because  he  was 
brilliant  as  a  star,  and,  like  wormwood,  he  embittered 
everything  he  touched.  We  have  studied  the  Star  of 
Bethlehem,  and  the  Morning  Star  of  the  Revelation, 
and  the  Star  of  Peace,  but  my  present  subject  calls  us 
to  gaze  at  the  star  Wormwood,  and  my  theme  might 
be  called  Brilliant  Bitterness. 
A  more  extraordinary  character  history  does  not  furnish 
than  this  man  thus  referred  to,  Attila,  the  King  of  the  Huns. 
One  day  a  wounded  heifer  came  limping  along  through  the 
fields,  and  a  herdsman  followed  its  bloody  track  on  the  grass 
to  see  where  the  heifer  was  wounded,  and  went  on  back  further 
and  further,  until  he  came  to  a  sword  fast  in  the  earth,  the 
point  downward,  as  though  it  had  dropped  from  the  hea- 
vens, and  against  the  edges  of  this  sword  the  heifer  had  been 
cut.  The  herdsman  pulled  up  that  sword  and  presented  it  to 
Attila.  Attila  said  that  sword  must  have  dropped  from 
the  heavens  from  the  grasp  of  the  god  Mars,  and  its  being 
given  to  him  meant  that  Attila  should  conquer  and  govern  the 
whole  earth.  Other  mighty  men  have  been  delighted  at  being 
called  liberators,  or  the  merciful,  or  the  good,  but  Attila  called  himself,  and 
demanded  that  others  call  him,  the  Scourge  of  God.  At  the  head  of  700,000 
troops  mounted  on  Cappadocian  horses,  he  swept  everything  from  the  Adriatic 
to  the  Black  Sea.  He  put  his  iron  heel  on  Macedonia  and  Greece  and  Thrace. 
He  made  Milan  and  Pavia  and  Padua  and  Verona  beg  for  mercy,  which  he 
bestowed  not.  The  Byzantine  castles,  to  meet  his  ruinous  levy,  put  up  at 
auction  massive  silver  tables  and  vases  of  solid  gold.  A  city  captured  by  him, 
the  inhabitants  were  brought  out  and  put  into  three  classes :  the  first  class, 
those  who  could  bear  arms,  who  must  immediately  enlist  under  Attila  or  be 
butchered ;  the  second  class,  the  beautiful  women,  who  were  made  captives  to 
the  Huns ;  the  third  class,  the  aged  men  and  women,  who  were  robbed  of 
everything  and  let  go  back  to  the  city  to  pay  heavy  tax. 

(190) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


**j 


attila's  death. 

It  was  a  common  saying  that  the  grass  never  grew  again  where  the  hoof 
of  Attila's  horse  had  trod.  His  armies  reddened  the  waters  of  the  Seine  and 
the  Moselle  and  the  Rhine  with  carnage,  and  fought  on  the  Catalonian  Plains 
the  fiercest  battle  since  the  world  stood — 300,000  dead  left  on  the  field !  On 
and  on,  until  all  those  who  could  not  oppose  him  with  arms  lay  prostrate  on 
their  faces  in  prayer,  and,  a  cloud  of  dust  seen  in  the  distance,  a  bishop 
cried :  "  It  is  the  aid  of  God !"  and  all  the  people  took  up  the  cry,  "  It  is  the 
aid  of  God !"  As  the  cloud  of  dust  was  blown  aside  the  banners  of  re-enforc- 
ing armies  marched  in  to  help  against  Attila,  the  Scourge  of  God.     The  most 


ATTILA,    KING  OF  THE   HUNS. 

unimportant  occurrences  he  used  as  a  supernatural  resource,  and,  after  three 
months  of  failure  to  capture  the  City  of  Aquileia,  and  his  army  had  given  up 
the  siege,  the  flight  of  a  stork  and  her  young  from  the  tower  of  the  city  was 
taken  by  him  as  a  sign  that  he  was  to  capture  the  city,  and  his  army, 
inspired  by  the  same  occurrence,  resumed  the  siege,  and  took  the  walls  at  a 
point  from  which  the  stork  had  emerged.  So  brilliant  was  the  conqueror  in 
attire  that  his  enemies  could  not  look  at  him,  but  shaded  their  eyes  or  turned 
their  heads. 

Slain  on  the  evening  of  his  marriage  by  his  bride,  Ildico,  who  was  hired 
for  the  assassinatiou,  his  followers  bewailed  him  not  with  tears,  but  with  blood, 


192 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


cutting  themselves  with  knives  and  lances.  He  was  put  into  three  coffins — the 
first  of  iron,  the  second  of  silver,  and  the  third  of  gold.  He  was  buried  by 
night,  and  into  his  grave  were  poured  the  most  valuable  coin  and  precious 
stones,  amounting  to  the  wealth  of  a  kingdom.  The  grave  diggers  and  all 
those  who  assisted  at  the  burial  were  massacred,  so  that  it  would  never  be 
known  where  so  much  wealth  was  entombed.  The  Roman  Empire  conquered 
the  world,  but  Attila  conquered  the  Roman  Empire.  He  was  right  in  calling 
himself  a  scourge,  but  instead  of  being  the  scourge  of  God  he  was  the  scourge 
of  hell.     Because  of  his  brilliance  and  bitterness  the  commentators  were  right 


SIEGE   OF  AQUII.EIA. 


'in  believing  him  to  be  the  star  Wormwood.  As  the  regions  he  devastated  were 
parts  most  opulent  with  fountains  and  streams  and  rivers,  you  see  how  graphic 
is  this  reference  in  Revelation  :  "  There  fell  a  great  star  from  heaven,  burning 
as  it  were  a  lamp,  and  it  fell  upon  the  third  part  of  the  rivers  and  upon  the 
fountains  of  waters,  and  the  name  of  the  star  is  called  Wormwood." 

Have  you  ever  thought  how  many  embittered  lives  there  are  all  about  US, 
misanthropic,  morbid,  acrid,  saturnine  ?  The  European  plant  from  which  worm- 
wood is  extracted,  artemisia  absinthium,  is  a  perennial  plant,  and  all  the  year 
round  it  is  ready  to  exude  its  oil.  And  in  many  human  lives  there  is  a  peren- 
nial distillation  of  acrid  experiences.     Yea,  there  are  some  whose  whole  work  is 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  193 

to  shed  a  baleful  influence  on  others.  There  are  Attilas  of  the  home,  or  Attilas 
of  the  social  circle,  or  Attilas  of  the  Church,  or  Attilas  of  the  State,  and  one- 
third  of  the  waters  of  all  the  world,  if  not  two-thirds  the  waters,  are  poisoned 
by  the  falling  of  the  star  Wormwood.  It  is  not  complimentary  to  human 
nature  that  most  men,  as  soon  as  they  get  great  power,  become  overbearing. 
The  more  power  men  have  the  better,  if  their  power  be  used  for  good.  The 
less  power  men  have  the  better,  if  they  use  it  for  evil. 

DESTRUCTION    OF    GREAT    CITIES. 

Tyre — the  atmosphere  of  the  desert,  fragrant  with  spices,  coming  in  cara- 
vans to  her  fairs  ;  all  seas  cleft  into  foam  by  the  keels  of  her  laden  merchant- 
men ;  her  markets  rich  with  horses  and  camels  from  Togarmah,  her  bazaars 
filled  with  upholstery  from  Dedan,  with  emerald  and  coral  and  agate  from 
Syria,  with  wines  from  Helbon,  with  embroidered  work  from  Ashur  and  Chil- 
mad.  Where  now  the  gleam  of  her  towers,  where  the  roar  of  her  chariots, 
where  the  masts  of  her  ships  ?  Let  the  fishermen  who  dry  their  nets  where 
once  she  stood,  let  the  sea  that  rushes  upon  the  barrenness  where  once  she 
challenged  the  admiration  of  all  nations,  let  the  barbarians  who  set  their  rude 
tents  where  once  her  palaces  glittered,  answer  the  question.  She  was  a  star, 
but  by  her  own  sin  turned  to  wormwood  and  has  fallen. 

Hundred-gated  Thebes — for  all  time  to  be  the  study  of  the  antiquarian  and 
hieroglyphist ;  her  stupendous  ruins  spread  over  twenty-seven  miles ;  her  sculp- 
tures presenting  in  figures  of  warrior  and  chariot  the  victories  with  which  the 
now  forgotten  kings  of  Egypt  shook  the  nations  ;  her  obelisks  and  columns ; 
Carnac  and  Luxor,  the  stupendous  temples  of  her  pride !  Who  can  imagine 
the  greatness  of  Thebes  in  those  days  when  the  hippodrome  rang  with  her 
sports  and  foreign  royalty  bowed  at  her  shrines  and  her  avenues  roared  with 
the  wheels  of  processions  in  the  wake  of  returning  conquerors  ?  What  dashed 
down  the  vision  of  chariots  and  temples  and  thrones  ?  What  hands  pulled 
upon  the  columns  of  her  glory?  What  ruthlessness  defaced  her  sculptured 
wall  and  broke  obelisks  and  left  her  indescribable  temples  great  skeletons  of 
granite  ?  What  spirit  of  destruction  spread  the  lair  of  wild  beasts  in  her  royal 
sepulchres,  and  taught  the  miserable  cottagers  of  to-day  to  build  huts  in  the 
courts  of  her  temples,  and  sent  desolation  and  ruin  skulking  behind  the 
obelisks  and  dodging  among  the  sarcophagi  and  leaning  against  the  columns 
and  stooping  under  the  arches  and  weeping  in  the  waters  which  go  mournfully 
by  as  though  they  were  carrying  the  tears  of  all  ages  ?  Let  the  mummies 
break  their  long  silence  and  come  up  to  shiver  in  the  desolation,  and  point  to 
fallen  gates  and  shattered  statues  and  defaced  sculpture,  responding :  "  Thebes 
built  not  one  temple  to  God.  Thebes  hated  righteousness  and  loved  sin. 
Thebes  was  a  star,   but  she  turned  to  wormwood  and  has   fallen." 

13 


(194) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  195 


WHY    BABYLON   FELL. 

Babylon,  with  her  250  towers  and  her  brazen  gates  and  her  embattled  walls, 
the  splendor  of  the  earth  gathered  within  her  palaces,  her  hanging  gardens 
built  by  Nebuchadnezzar  to  please  his  bride,  Amytis,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  a  mountainous  country  and  could  not  endure  the  flat  country  round 
Babylon — these  hanging  gardens  built,  terrace  above  terrace,  till  at  the  height 
of  400  feet  there  were  woods  waving  and  fountains  playing,  the  verdure,  the 
foliage,  the  glory  looking  as  if  a  mountain  were  on  the  wing.  On  the  tip-top 
a  king  walking  with  his  queen,  among  statues  snowy  white,  looking  up  at 
birds  brought  from  distant  lands,  and  drinking  out  of  tankards  of  solid  gold 
or  looking  off  over  rivers  and  lakes  upon  nations  subdued  and  tributary, 
crying :     "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon  which  I   have  built  ?" 

What  battering  ram  smote  the  walls  ?  What  plowshare  upturned  the  gardens  ? 
What  army  shattered  the  brazen  gates  ?  What  long,  fierce  blast  of  storm  put  out 
this  light  which  illumined  the  world  ?  What  crash  of  discord  drove  down  the 
music  that  poured  from  palace  window  and  garden  grove  and  called  the  banqueters 
to  their  revel  and  the  dancers  to  their  feet  ?  I  walk  upon  the  scene  of  desolation  to 
find  an  answer  and  pick  up  pieces  of  bitumen  and  brick  and  broken  pottery,  the 
remains  of  Babylon,  and  as  in  the  silence  of  the  night  I  hear  the  surging  of 
that  billow  of  desolation  which  rolls  over  the  scene,  I  hear  the  wild  waves 
saying:  "  Babylon  was  proud.  Babylon  was  impure.  Babylon  was  a  star,  but  by 
sin  she  turned  to  wormwood  and  has   fallen." 

From  the  persecutions  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  and  the  Huguenots  in  other 
lands,  God  set  upon  these  shores  a  nation.  The  council  fires  of  the  aborigines 
went  out  in  the  greater  light  of  a  free  government.  The  sound  of  the  war- 
whoop  was  exchanged  for  the  thousand  wheels  of  enterprise  and  progress.  The 
mild  winters,  the  fruitful  summers,  the  healthful  skies  charmed  from  other 
lands  a  race  of  hardy  men  who  loved  God  and  wanted  to  be  free.  Before  the 
woodman's  axe  forests  fell  and  rose  again  into  ships'  masts  and  churches'  pillars. 
Cities  on  the  banks  of  lakes  begin  to  rival  cities  by  the  sea.  The  land  quakes 
with  the  rush  of  the  rail  car  and  the  waters  are  churned  white  with  the  steamer's 
wheel.  Fabulous  bushels  of  Western  wheat  meet  on  the  way  fabulous  tons 
of  Eastern  coal.  Furs  from  the  North  pass  on  the  rivers  fruits  from  the  South. 
And  trading  in  the  same  market  is  Maine  lumberman  and  South  Carolina  rice 
merchant  and  Ohio  farmer  and  Alaska  fur  dealer.  And  churches  and  schools 
and  asylums  scatter  light  and  love,  and  mercy,  and  salvation  upon  60,000,000 
of  people. 

WHERE   THE   NATION'S    SAFETY   LIES. 

I  pray  that  our  nation  may  not  copy  the  crimes  of  the  nations  that  have 
perished,  and  our  cup  of  blessing  turn  to  wormwood  and  like  them  we  go 
down.  I  am  by  nature  and  by  grace  an  optimist,  and  I  expect  that  this 
country  will  continue  to  advance  until    Christ    shall    come  again.      But  be  not 


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(196) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


197 


deceived !  Our  only  safety  is  in 
righteousness  toward  God  and  jus- 
tice toward  man.  If  we  forget  the 
goodness  of  the  Lord  to  this  land ; 
if  the  political  corruption  which  has 
poisoned  the  fountains  of  public  vir- 
tue and  beslimed  the  high  places  of 
authority,  making  free  government 
at  times  a  hissing  and  a  by-word  in 
all  the  earth ;  if  the  drunkenness 
and  licentiousness  that  stagger  and 
blaspheme  in  the  streets  of  our 
great  cities  as  though  they  were 
reaching  after  the  fame  of  a  Corinth 
and  a  Sodom  are  not  repented  of, 
we  will  yet  see  the  smoke  of  our 
nation's  ruin ;  the  pillars  of  our  na- 
tional and  State  capitols  will  fall 
more  disastrously  than  when  Sam- 
son pulled  down  Dagon  ;  and  future 
historians  will  record  upon  the  page 
bedewed  with  generous  tears  the 
story  that  the  free  nation  of  the 
West  arose  in  splendor  which  made 
the  world  stare.  It  had  magnificent 
possibilities.  It  forgot  God.  It 
hated  justice.  It  hugged  its  crime. 
It  halted  on  its  high  march.  It 
reeled  under  the  blow  of  calamity. 
It  fell.  And  as  it  was  going  down, 
all  the  despotism  of  earth  from  the 
top  of  bloody  thrones  began  to 
shout,  "Aha,  so  would  we  have  it," 
while  struggling  and  oppressed  peo- 
ple looked  out  from  dungeon  bars 
with  tears  and  greims  and  cries  of 
untold  agony,  the  scorn  of  those 
and  the  woe  of  these  uniting  in  the 
exclamation,  "  Look  yonder  i  there 
fell  a  great  star  from  heaven,  burn- 
ing as  it  were  a  lamp,  and  it  fell 
upon  the  third  part  of  the  rivers  and  upon  the  fountains  of  waters ;  and  the 
uame  of  the  star  is  called  Wormwood ! " 


THE  GODDESS   OF  JUSTICE. 


Jralousg. 

A   DIABOLICAL   SIN   THAT    SETS    ONE-HALF  THE  WORLD 
AGAINST   THE   OTHER. 

HERE   is    an    old    sin,    haggard,    furious,    monstrous     and 
diabolical,   that    has    for    ages    walked    and     crawled    the 
earth.     It  combines    all    that    is    obnoxious    in    the    races, 
human,  quadrupedal,  ornithological,  reptilian    and  insectile, 
horned,    tusked,    hoofed,    fanged,    stinged;      the    eye    of  a 
basilisk,  the  tooth   of   an    adder,  the  jaws    of  a  crocodile, 
the    crushing    folds    of    an    anaconda,     the    slyness    of    a 
scorpion,  the  tongue  of  a  cobra,  and   the  coil  of  the  worm 
that  never    dies.     It    is    in    every  community,   in    every  church, 
in    every    legislative    hall,    in     every    monetary     institution,    in 
every    drawing    room    levee,  in    every  literary  and    professional 
circle.      It    whispers,    it    hisses,    it  lies,    it    debauches,    it    blas- 
phemes, it  damns. 

It  is  grief  at  the  superiority  of  others;  their  superiority 
in  talent,  or  wealth,  or  beauty,  or  elegance,  or  virtue,  or  social, 
or  professional,  or  political  recognition.  It  is  the  shadow  of 
other  people's  success.  It  is  the  shiver  in  our  pocket-book 
because  it  is  not  so  fat  as  some  one  else's  pocket-book.  It  is 
the  twinge  in  our  tongue  because  it  is  not  so  eloquent  as  some 
one  else's  tongue.  It  is  the  flutter  in  our  robes  because  they 
are  not  so  lustrous  as  some  one  else's  robes.  It  is  the  earth- 
quake under  our  house  because  it  is  not  so  many  feet  front  and  deep  as  our 
neighbor's  house.  It  is  the  thunder  of  other  people's  popularity  souring  the 
milk  of  our  kindness.  It  is  the  father  and  mother  of  one-half  of  the  discontent 
and  outrages,  and  detractions,  and  bankruptcies,  and  crimes,  and  woes  of  the 
human  race. 

THE   FIRST   CASE    OF  JEALOUSY. 

It  was  antediluvian  as  much  as  it  is  postdiluvian.  It  put  a  rough  stick 
in  the  hands  of  the  first  boy  that  was  ever  born,  and  said  to  him:  "Now, 
Cain,  when  Abel  is  looking  the  other  way,  crush  in  his  skull;  for  his  sacrifice 
has  been  accepted  and  yours  rejected."  And  Cain  picked  up  the  stick  as 
though  just  to  walk  with  it,  and  while  Abel  was  watching  some  birds  in  the 
tree-top,  or  gazing  at  some  waterfall,  down  came  the  blow  of  the  first  assassi- 
nation, which    has    had    its    echo    in    all    the   fratricides,  matricides,  uxoricides, 

('93) 


- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


199 


homicides,    infanticides 
and  regicides  of  all  ages 
and    all    nations.       This 
passion     of    jealousy     so 
disturbed  Caligula  at  the 
prominence    of    some    of 
the  men  of  his  time,  that 
he    cut    a    much-admired 
curl    from    the    brow    of 
Cinciunatus,  and  took  the 
embroidered    collar    from 
the  neck    of   Torquatus, 
and  had  Ptolemseus  killed 
because  of  his  purple  robe, 
which  attracted  too  much 
attention.     After   Colum- 
bus had  placed  America 
as  a  gem  in  the  Spanish 
crown,    jealousy    set    on 
the  Spanish  courtiers  to 
depreciate     his     achieve- 
ment,  and    aroused    ani- 
mosities   till     the     great 
discoverer  had  his  heart 
broken.       Urged    on    by 
this  bad   passion,  Diony- 
sius  flayed  Plato  because 
he  was  wiser   than   him- 
self, and  Philoxenus  be- 
cause his  music  was  too 
popular.     Jealousy  made 
Korah   lie    about    Moses 
and    Succoth     depreciate 
Gideon. 

Jealousy  made  the 
trouble  between  Jacob 
and  Esau.  That  hurled 
Joseph  into  the  pit.  That 
struck  the  twenty-three 
fatal  wounds  into  Julius 
Caesar..  That  banished 
Aristides.  That  fired 
Antony    against    Cicero. 


CAIN  AND  ABEL,    ROCKED   IN   THE    FIRST  CRADLE. 


(200) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


20I 


Tiberius  exiled  an  architect  be- 
cause of  the  fame  he  got  for  a 
beautiful  porch,  and  slew  a  poet 
for  his  fine  tragedy.  That  set 
Saul  in  a  rage  against  David. 
How  graphically  the  Bible  puts  it 
when  it  says  :  "  Saul  eyed  David." 
It  seems  to  take  possession  of  both 
eyes  and  makes  them  flash  and 
burn  like  two  port-holes  of'  hell. 
"Saul  eyed  David."  That  is,  he 
looked  at  him  as  much  as  to 
say  :  "  You  little  upstart,  how  dare 
you  attempt  anything  great.  I 
will  grind  you  under  my  heel. 
I  will  exterminate  you,  I  will, 
you  miserable  homunculus. 
Crouch,  crawl,  slink  into  that  rat- 
hole.  I  will  teach  those  women 
to  sing  some  other  song,  instead 
of  "  Saul  has  slain  his  thousands, 
but  David  his  tens  of  thousands." 
When  Voltaire  heard  that  Fred- 
erick the  Great  was  forgetting 
him  and  putting  his  literary  ad- 
miration on  Bacaulard  d'Arnaud, 
the  old  infidel  leaped  out  of  his 
bed  and  danced  the  floor  in  a 
maniacal  rage,  and  ordered  his 
swiftest  horses  hooked  up  to  carry 
him  to  the  Prussian  palace. 

That  despicable  passion  of  jeal- 
ousy led  Napoleon  I.  to  leave  in 
his  will  a  bequest  of  5000  francs 
to  the  ruffian  who  shot  at  Welling- 
ton when  the  victor  of  Waterloo 
was  passing  through  Paris.  'That 
stationed  the  grouty  elder  brother 
at  the  back  door  of  the  homestead 
when  the  prodigal  son  returned, 
and  threw  a  chill  on  the  family 
reunion  while  that  elder  brother 
complained,    saying:   "Who   ever 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON. 


202 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


heard  of  giving  roast  veal  to  such  a  profligate?"  Ay,  that  passion  rose  up 
and  under  the  darkest  cloud  that  ever  shadowed  the  earth,  and  amid  the 
loudest  thunder  that  ever  shook  the  mountains,  and  amid  the  wildest  flash  of 
lightning  that  ever  blinded  or  stunned  the  nations,  hung  up  on  two  pieces 
of  rough  lumber  back  of  Jerusalem  the  kindest,  purest,  lovingest  nature  that 
Heaven  could  delegate,  and  stopped  not  until  there  was  no  power  left  in  hammer, 
or  bramble,  or  javelin  to  hurt  the  dead  Son  of  God. 


dEath-bbd  of  Copernicus. — From  the  Painting  by  E.  Blair  Leighton. 


A   PASSION   THAT   ANNOYS   THE    WORLD. 

That  passion,  of  jealousy,  livid,  hungry,  unbalked,  rages  on,  and  it  now 
pierces  the  earth  like  a  fiery  diameter  and  encircles  it  like  a  fiery  circum- 
ference. It  wants  both  hemispheres.  It  wants  the  heavens.  It  would,  if  it 
could,  capture  the  palace  of  God,  and  dethrone  Jehovah,  and  chain  the  Al- 
mighty in  eternal  exile,  and  after  the  demolition  of  the  universe  would  cry: 
"Satisfied  at  last,  here  I  am,  alone,  the  undisputed  and  everlasting  I,  me, 
mine,  myself  V     That  passion  keeps  all  Europe  perturbed.     Nations  jealous  of 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  203 

Germany,  of  England,  of  Russia,  and  those  jealous  of  each  other,  and  all  of 
them  jealous  of  America. 

Go  into  all  occupations  and  professions,  and  if  you  want  to  know  how 
much  jealousy  is  yet  to  be  extirpated,  ask  master  builders  what  they  think 
of  each  others'  houses,  and  merchants  what  their  opinion  is  of  merchants  in 
the  same  line  of  business  in  the  same  street,  and  ask  doctors  what  they  think 
of  doctors,  and  lawyers  what  they  think  of  lawyers,  and  ministers  what  they 
think  of  ministers,  and  artists  what  they  think  of  artists.  As  long  as  men 
and  women  in  any  department  keep  down  and  have  a  hard  struggle  they  will 
be  faintly  praised,  and  the  remark  will  be :  "  Oh,  yes ;  he  is  a  good,  clever 
sort  of  a  fellow."  "  She  is  rather,  yes,  somewhat,  quite — well,  I  may  say, 
tolerably  nice  kind  of  a  woman."  But  let  him  or  her  get  a  little  too  high 
and  off  goes  the  aspiring  head  by  social  or  commercial  decapitation. 

Remember  that  envy  dwells  more  011  small  defects  of  character  than  on 
great  forces ;  makes  more  of  the  fact  that  Domitian  amused  himself  by  trans- 
fixing flies  with  his  penknife  than  of  his  great  conquests ;  more  of  the  fact 
that  Handel  was  a  glutton  than  that  he  created  imperishable  oratorios ;  more 
of  Coleridge's  opium  habit  than  of  his  writing  "  Christabel "  and  "  The 
Ancient  Mariner ;"  more  of  the  fact  that  Addison  drank  too  much  than  of 
the  fact  that  he  was  the  editor  of  the  "  Spectator ;"  jealousy  that  derided  and 
abused  Copernicus  even  to  his  death-bed ;  more  of  a  man's  peccadilloes  than 
of  his  mighty  energies ;    more  of  his  defeats  than  of  his  victories. 

JEALOUSY   AMONG   DOCTORS. 

Look  at  the  sacred  and  heaven-descended  science  of  healing,  and  then 
see  Dr.  Mackenzie,  the  English  surgeon,  who  prolonged  the  life  of  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Germany  until  he  became  Emperor.  Yet  so  great  were  the  medical 
jealousies  that  for  a  time  Dr.  Mackenzie  dared  not  walk  the  streets  of  Berlin. 
He  was  under  military  guard.  The  medical  students  of  Germany  could  hardly 
keep  their  hands  from  him.  The  old  doctors  of  Germany  were  writhing  with 
indignation.  The  fact  is  that  in  prolonging  Frederick's  life  for  several  months 
Dr.  Mackenzie  saved  the  peace  of  Europe.  There  was  not  an  intelligent  man 
on  either  side  the  ocean  that  did  not  fear  for  the  result  if  the  throne  passed 
immediately  from  wise  and  good  old  Emperor  William  to  his  inexperienced 
grandson.  But  when,  under  the  medical  treatment  of  Dr.  Mackenzie,  the 
Crown  Prince  Frederick  took  the  throne,  a  wave  of  satisfaction  and  confidence 
rolled  over  Christendom.  But  what  shall  the  world  do  with  the  doctor  who 
prolonged  his  life  ?  "  Oh,"  cried  out  the  medical  jealousies  of  Europe, 
"  destroy  him  ;    of  course,  destroy  him." 

What  a  brutal  scene  of  jealousy  we  had  in  this  country  when  President 
Garfield  lay  dying.  There  were  faithful  physicians  that  sacrificed  their  other 
practice  and  sacrificed  their  health  for  all  time  in  fidelity  to  that  death-bed. 
Doctors  Bliss  and  Hamilton  and  Agnew  went  through    anxieties   and  toils  and 


204  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

fatigues  such  as  none  but  God  could  appreciate.  Nothing  pleased  many  of 
the  medical  profession.  The  doctors  in  charge  did  nothing  right.  We  who 
did  not  see  the  case  knew  better  than  those  who  agonized  over  it  in  the  sick- 
room for  many  weeks.  I,  who  never  had  anything  worse  than  a  run-round 
on  my  thumb,  which  seemed  to  me  at  the  time  was  worthy  all  the  attention 
of  the  entire  medical  fraternity,  had  my  own  ideas  as  to  how  the  President 
ought  to  be  treated.  And  in  proportion  as  physicians  and  laymen  were  igno- 
rant of  the  case,  they  were  sure  the  treatment  practised  was  a  mistake.  And 
when  in  post-mortem  the  bullet  dropped  out  of  a  different  part  of  the  body 
from  that  in  which  it  was  supposed  to  have  been  lodged,  about  200,000  people 
shouted:  "I  told  you  so!"  "There!  I  knew  it  all  the  time."  There  are  some 
doctors  who  would  rather  have  the  patient  die  under  the  treatment  of 
their   own   schools  than  have    them  get  well    under    some    other  pathy. 

Yea,  look  at  the  clerical  profession.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  in  matters 
of  jealousy  it  is  no  better  than  other  professions.  There  are  now  in  all 
denominations  a  great  many  young  clergymen  who  have  a  faculty  for  superior 
usefulness.  But  they  are  kept  down  and  kept  back  and  crippled  by  older 
ministers  who  look  askance  at  these  rising  evangelists.  They  are  snubbed. 
They  are  jostled.  They  are  patronizingly  advised.  It  is  suggested  to  them 
that  they  had  better  know  their  place.  If  here  and  there  one  with  more 
nerve  and  brain,  and  consecration,  and  divine  force  go  past  the  seniors  who 
want  to  keep  the  chief  places,  the  young  are  advised  in  the  words  of  Scripture: 
'Tarry  at  Jericho  till  their  beards  are  grown."  They  are  charged  with  sen 
sationalism.  They  are  compared  to  rockets  that  go  up  in  a  blaze  and  come 
down  sticks,  and  the  brevity  of  their  career  is  jubilantly  prophesied.  If  it  be 
a  denomination  with  bishops,  a  bishop  is  implored  to  sit  down  heavily  on  the 
man  who  will  not  be  molded ;  or  if  a  denomination  without  bishops,  some  of 
the  older  men  with  nothing  more  than  their  own  natural  heaviness  and  theo- 
logical avoirdupois  are  advised  to  flatten  out  the  innovator.  In  conferences  and 
presbyteries,  and  associations  and  conventions  there  is  often  seen  the  most 
damnable  jealousy.  Such  ecclesiastical  tyrants  would  not  admit  that  jealousy 
had  any  possession  of  them,  and  they  take  on  a  heavenly  air,  and  talk  sweet 
oil  and  sugar  plums,  and  balm  of  a  thousand  flowers,  and  roll  up  their  eyes 
with  an  air  of  unctuous  sanctity  when  they  simply  mean  the  destruction  of 
those  over  whom  they  pray  and  snuffle.  There  are  cases  where  ministers 
of  religion  are  derelict  and  criminal,  and  they  must  be  put  out. 

LIKE   CUTTING    A    ROASTED   OX. 

But  in  the  majority  of  cases  that  I  have  witnessed  in  ecclesiastical  trials, 
there  is  a  jealous  attempt  to  keep  men  from  surpassing  their  theological 
fellows,  and  as  at  the  presidential  elections  in  country  places  the  people  have 
a  barbecue,  which  is  a  roasted  ox  round  which  the  people  dance  with  knives, 
cutting  off  a  slice  here,  and  pulling  out  a  rib  there,  and  sawing  off  a  beefsteak 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


205 


yonder,  and  having  a  high  time;    so  most  of  the    denominations  of  Christians 
keep  on  hand  a  barbecue  in  which  some  minister  is  roasted  while  the  Church 


THE  JEALOUS   SISTERS   OF   LAZARUS. 

"But  one  thing  is  needful:  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 

her." — Luke  x.  42. 

courts  dance  around  with  their  sharp  knives    of  attack,  and  one  takes  an  ear, 
another  a  hand,  another  a  foot,  and  it  is  hard  to  tell  whether  the  ecclesiastical 


2o6 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


plaintiffs  of  this  world  or  the  demons  of  the  nether  world  most  enjoy  it. 
Albert  Barnes,  than  whom  no  man  has  accomplished  more  good  in  the  last 
thousand  years,  was  decreed  to  sit  silent  for  a  year  in  the  pew  of  his  own 
church  while  some   one  else    occupied    his    pulpit,  the    pretended    offense  being 

that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve in  a  limited 
atonement,  but  the 
real  offense  the  fact 
that  all  the  men 
who  tried  him  put 
together  would  not 
equal  one  Albert 
Barnes. 

Yes ;  amid  all 
professions  and  bus- 
iness, and  occupa- 
tions, and  trades, 
and  amid  all  circles 
needs  to  be  heard 
what  God  says  in 
regard  to  envy  and 
jealousy,  which, 
though  not  exactly 
the  same,  are  twins : 
"Envy  is  the  rot- 
tenness of  the 
bone;"  "Where 
envy  and  strife  is, 
there  is  confusion 
and  every  evil 
work;"  "Jealousy 
is  the  rage  of  man." 
That  which  has 
downed  kings  and 
emperors,  and  apos- 
tles, and  reformers, 
and  ministers  of 
religion,  and  thous- 
ands of  good  men 
and   women,  is    too 

mighty  for  you  to  contend  against  unaided.  The  evil  has  so  many  roots  of 
such  infinite  convolution  that  nothing  but  the  energy  of  omnipotence  can  pull 
it  out. 


the  jealous  child. — From  a  Painting  by  F.  G.  Cotman. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


207 


Away  with  the  accursed,  stenchful,  blackening,  damning  crime  of  jealousy. 
Allow  it  to  stay  and  it  will  eat  up  and  carry  off  all  the  religion  you  can 
pack  into  your  soul  for  the  next  half-century.  It  will  do  you  more  harm 
than  it  does  any  one  it  leads  you  to  assail.  It  will  delude  you  with  the 
idea  that  you  can  build  yourself  up  by  pulling  somebody  else  down.  You 
will    make   more  out  of  the  success    of  others  than  out   of  their   misfortunes. 


jealous  lovers — the  duel. — From  a  Painting  by  N.  Sicard. 

Speak  well  of  everybody.      Stab  no  man  in  the  back.      Be  a  honey-bee    rather 
than  a  spider;  be  a  dove  rather  than  a  buzzard. 

Surely  this  world  is  large  enough  for  you  and  all  your  rivals.  God  has 
given  you  a  work  to  do.  Go  ahead  and  do  it.  Mind  your  own  business.  In 
all  circles,  in  all  businesses,  in  all  professions  there  is  room  for  straightfor- 
ward successes.  Jealousy  entertained  will  not  only  bedwarf  your  soul,  but  it 
will  flatten  your  skull,  bemean  your  eye,  put  pinchedness  of  look  about  your 
nostril,  give  a  bad  curl  to  the  lip,  and  expel  from  your  face  the  divine  image 
in  whch  you  were  created.     When  you  hear   a   man    or    woman    abused,  drive 


2o8  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

in  on  the  defendant's  side.  Watch  for  excellences  in  others  rather  than  for 
defects,  morning-glories  instead  of  nightshade.  If  some  one  is  more  beautiful 
than  you,  thank  God  that  you  have  not  so  many  perils  of  vanity  to  contend 
with.  If  some  one  has  more  wealth  than  you,  thank  God  that  you  have  not 
so  great  stewardship  to  answer  for.  If  some  one  is  higher  up  in  social  posi- 
tion, thank  God  that  those  who  are  down  need  not  fear  a  fall.  If  some  one 
gets  higher  office  in  Church  or  State  than  you,  thank  God  there  are  not  so 
many  to  wish  for  the  hastening  on  of  your  obsequies. 

The  Duke  of  Dantzig,  in  luxurious  apartments,  was  visited  by  a  plain 
friend,  and  to  keep  his  friend  from  jealousy  the  Duke  said:  "You  can  have 
all  I  have  if  you  will  stand  twenty  paces  off  and  let  me  shoot  at  you  ioo 
times." 

"No,  no,"  said  his  friend. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Duke,  "  to  gain  all  my  honors  I  faced  on  the  battle-field 
more  than  a  thousand  gunshots  fired  not  more  than  ten  paces  off." 

A  minister  of  small  congregation  complained  to  a  minister  of  large  con- 
gregation about  the  sparseness  of  his  attendants.  "Ah,"  said  the  one  of  large 
audience,  "  my  son,  you  will  find  in  the  day  of  judgment  that  you  had  quite 
enough  people  for  whom  to  be  held  accountable." 

A   SUBSTITUTE. 

Substitute  for  jealousy  an  elevating  emulation.  Seeing  others  good,  let 
us  try  to  be  better.  Seeing  others  industrious,  let  us  work  more  hours.  See- 
ing others  benevolent,  let  us  resolve  on  giving  larger  percentage  of  our  means 
for  charity.  May  God  put  congratulations  for  others  into  our  right  hand  and 
cheers  on  our  lips  for  those  who  do  brave  and  useful  things.  Life  is  short  at 
the  longest ;  let  it  all  be  filled  up  with  helpfulness  for  others,  work  and  sym- 
pathy for  each  other's  misfortunes,  and  our  arms  be  full  of  white  mantles  to 
cover  up  the  mistakes  and  failures  of  others.  If  an  evil  report  about  some 
one  come  to  us,  let  us  put  on  the  most  favorable  construction,  as  the  Rhone 
enters  Lake  Leman  foul  and  comes  out  crystalline.  Do  not  build  so  much  on 
the  transitory  differences  of  this  world,  for  soon  it  will  make  no  difference  to 
us  whether  we  had  ten  million  dollars  or  ten  cents,  and  the  ashes  into  which 
the  tongue  of  Demosthenes  dissolved  are  just  like  the  ashes  into  which  the 
tongue  of  the  veriest  stammerer  went. 

If  you  are  assailed  by  jealousy,  make  no  answer.  Take  it  as  a  compli- 
ment, for  people  are  never  jealous  of  a  failure.  Until  your  work  is  done,  you 
are  invulnerable.  Remember  how  our  Lord  behaved  under  such  exasperations. 
Did  they  not  try  to  catch  Him  in  His  word  ?  Did  they  not  call  Him  the 
victim  of  intoxicants  ?  Did  they  not  misinterpret  Him  from  the  winter  of  the 
year  i  to  the  spring  of  the  year  33 — that  is,  from  His  first  infantile  cry  to 
the  last  groan  of  His  assassination  ?  Yet  He  answered  not  a  word.  But  so 
far  from  demolishing  either  His  mission  or    His  good   name,    after   near    nine- 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


?,oc 


teen  centuries  He  outranks  everything  under  the  skies,  and  is  second  to  none 
above  them,  and  the  archangel  makes  salaam  at  His  footstool.  Christ's  bloody 
antagonists  thought  that  they  had  finished  Him  whet;  They  wrote  over  the 
cross  His  accusation  in  three  languages — Hebrew,  Greek  and  Latin — not  real- 
izing that  they  were  by  that  act  introducing  Him  to  all  nations,  since  Hebre\ 
is  the  holiest  language,  and  Greek  the  wisest  of  tongues,  and  Latin  the  widesi 
spoken. 

You  are  net  the  first  man  who  had  his  fault  <  looked  at  through  a  micro- 
scope and  his  virtues  through  the  wrong  end  of  a  telescope.  Pharaoh  had 
the  chief  butler  and  baker  eniungeoned,  and  tradition  says  that  all   the  butler 


hard  times. — From  the  Painting  by  Hubert  Herkomer. 

had  done  was  to  allow  a  fly  in  the  king's  cup,  and  all  the  baker  had  done 
was  to  leave  a  gravel  in  the  king's  bread.  The  world  has  the  habit  of  making 
a  great  ado  about  what  you  do  wrong  and  forgetting  to  say  anything  aboir 
what  you  do  right,  but  the  same  God  will  take  care  of  you  who  provided  fo. 
Merlin,  the  Christian  martyr,  when  hidden  from  his  pursuers  in  a  hay-mow 
in  Paris,  and  a  hen  came  and  laid  an  egg  close  by  him  every  morning,  thus 
keeping  him  from  starvation.  Blessed  are  they  that  are  persecuted,  although 
persecution  is  a  severe  cataplasm.  Ointment  may  smart  the  wound  before 
healing  it.  What  a  soft  pillow  to  die  on  if  when  we  leave  the  world  we  car 
feel  that,  though  a  thousand  people  may  have  wronged  us,  we  have  wrongec 
14 


:ro 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


uo  one;  or  having  made  envious  and  jealous  attack  on  others,  we  have 
repented  of  the  sin  and  as  far  as  possible  made  reparation.  The  good  resolution 
of  Timothy  Poland  in  his  quaint  but  exquisite  hymn,  entitled  "  Most  Any 
Day,"  we  might  unanimously  adopt : 

We'll  keep  all  right  and  good  within, 
Our  work  will  then  be  free  from  sin  ; 
Upright  we'll  walk  through  thick  and  thin 

Straight  on  our  way. 
Deal  just  with  all ;    the  prize  we'll  win 

Most  any  day 

When  He  who  made  all  things  just  right 
Shall  call  us  hence  to  realms  of  light, 
Be  it  morn  or  noon  or  e'en  or  night, 

We  will  obey  ; 
We'll  be  prepared  to  take  our  flight 

Most   any  day. 

Our  lamps  we'll  fill  brim  full  of  oil 

That's  good  and  pure,  that  would  not  spoil, 

And  keep  them  burning  all  the  while 

To  light  our  way  ; 
Our  work  all  done,   we'll  quit  the  soil 

Most  any  day. 


&f)e  &oul. 

ITS  VALUE   COMPARED   WITH   WORLDLY   POSSESSIONS. 

-pf  HAVE  to    say  that  the  world  is  a  very  grand  property.      Its 

•-*      flowers    are    God's   thoughts    in    bloom.     Its  rocks  are  God's 

thoughts  in  stone.     Its  dew  drops  are  God's  thoughts  in  pearl. 

This  world  is   God's  child — a  wayward  child,  indeed;   it  has 

wandered   off  through    the   heavens.      But   about    1888  years 

ago,  one  Christmas  night,  God  sent  out  a  sister  world  to  call 

that  wanderer  back,  and   it  hung  over  Bethlehem  only  long 

enough  to  get  the  promise  of  the  wanderer's  return ;  and  now 

that  lost  world,  with  soft  feet   of   light,  comes  treading  back 

through  the  heavens.     The  hills,  how  beautiful  they  billow  up  the 

edge  of  the   wave  white  with  the  foam   of  crocuses!    How  beautiful 

the  rainbow,  the  arched  bridge  on  which  heaven  and  earth  come  and 

talk  to  each  other  in  tears,  after  the  storm  is  over !    How  nimble  the 

feet  of  the  lamp-lighters  that  in  a  few  minutes  set  all  the  dome  of 

the  night  ablaze    with    brackets   of  fire!    How  bright  the  oar  of  the 

saffron  cloud  that  rows  across  the  deep  sea  of  heaven  !    How  beautiful 

the  spring,  with    bridal    blossoms  in  her    hair !    I  wonder  who   it  is 

that  beats   time  on   a   June    morning  for   the    bird   orchestra.     How 

gently   the    harebell    tolls  its   fragrance  on  the  air!    There  may  be 

grander    worlds,    swarthier   worlds,  larger  worlds    than    this ;    but    I 

think  that  this  is  a  most  exquisite  world — a  mignonette  on  the  bosom 

of  immensity ! 

"Oh,"  you  say,  "take  my  soul!  give  me  that  world!  I  am  willing  to  take 
it  in  exchange.  I  am  ready  now  for  the  bargain.  It  is  so  beautiful  a  world, 
so  sweet  a  world,  so  grand  a  world !" 

Geologists  tell  us  that  it  is  already  on  fire ;  that  the  heart  of  the  world  is 
one  great  living  coal;  that  it  is  just  like  a  ship  on  fire  at  sea,  the  flames  not 
bursting  out  because  the  hatches  are  kept  down.  And  yet  you  propose  to  palm 
off  on  me,  in  return  for  my  soul,  a  world  for  which,  in  the  first  place,  you 
give  no  title,  and,  in  the  second  place,  for  which  you  can  give  no  insurance, 
"  Oh,"  you  say,  "  the  water  of  the  oceans  will  wash  over  all  the  land  and  put 
out  the  fire."  Oh,  no.  There  are  inflammable  elements  in  the  water,  hydrogen 
and  oxygen.  Call  off  the  hydrogen  and  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific  Oceans 
would  blaze  like  heaps  of  shavings.  You  want  me  to  take  this  world,  for  which 
you  can  give  no  possible  insurance. 

(211) 


(2121 


THE  I.ITTI.E  ORPHAN'S  DREAM. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  213 

Astronomers  have  swept  their  telescopes  through  the  sky,  and  have  found 
out  that  there  have  been  thirteen  worlds,  in  the  last  two  centuries,  that  have 
disappeared.  At  first  they  looked  just  like  other  worlds.  Then  they  got 
deeply  red — they  were  on  fire.  Then  they  got  ashen,  showing  they  were 
burned  down.  Then  they  disappeared,  showing  that  even  the  ashes  were 
scattered.  And  if  the  geologist  be  right  in  his  prophecy,  then  our  world  is  to 
go  on  in  the  same  way.  And  yet  you  want  me  to  exchange  my  soul  for  it. 
Ah,  no;  it  is  a  world  that  is  burning  now.  Suppose  you  brought  an 
insurance  agent  to  look  at  your  property  for  the  purpose  of  giving  you  a 
policy  upon  it,  and  while  he  stood  in  front  of  the  house  he  should  say: 
41  That  house  is  on  fire  now  in  the  basement,"  you  could  not  get  any  insur- 
ance upon  it.  Yet  you  talk  about  this  world  as  though  it  were  a  safe  invest- 
ment, as  though  you  could  get  some  insurance  upon  it,  when  down  in  the 
basement  it  is  on  fire. 

I  may  also  add,  that  this  world  is  a  property  with  which  everybody  who 
has  taken  it  as  a  possession  has  had  trouble.  Now,  I  know  a  large  reach 
of  land  that  is  not  built  on.  I  ask  what  is  the  matter,  and  they  reply  that 
everybody  who  has  had  anything  to  do  with  that  property  got  into  trouble 
about  it.  It  is  just  so  with  this  world;  everybody  that  has  had  anything  to 
do  with  it,  as  a  possession,  has  been  in  perplexity.  How  was  it  with  Lord 
Byron?  Did  he  not  sell  his  immortal  soul  for  the  purpose  of  getting  the 
world  ?  Was  he  satisfied  with  the  possession  ?  Alas !  alas !  the  poem 
graphically  describes  his  case  when  it  says  : 

Drank  every  cup  of  joy, 

Heard  every  trump  of  fame  ; 

Drank  early,  deeply  drank, 

Drank  draughts  which  common  millions  might  have  quenched, 

Then  died  of  thirst  because  there  was  no  more  to  drink. 

HOW    TO    MEASURE    A    MAN'S    PROPERTY 

Oh,  yes,  he  had  trouble  with  it ;  and  so  did  Napoleon.  After  conquering 
nations  by  the  force  of  his  sword,  he  lies  down  to  die,  his  entire  possession 
the  military  boots  that  he  insisted  on  having  upon  his  feet  while  he  was  dying. 
Or  the  even  greater  sorrow,  perhaps,  of  having  to  retreat  from  Moscow,  his 
army  defeated,  his  hopes  shattered,  and  his  pride  of  achievement  humbled. 
So  it  has  been  with  men  who  had  better  ambition.  Thackeray,  one  of  the 
most  genial  and  lovable  souls,  after  he  had  won  the  applause  of  all  intelligent 
lands  through  his  wonderful  genius,  sits  down  in  a  restaurant  in  Paris,  looks 
to  the  other  end  of  the  room  and  wonders  whose  that  forlorn  and  wretched  face 
is;  rising  up  after  a  while,  he  finds  that  it  is  Thackeray  in  the  mirror.  Oh, 
yes,  this  world  is  a  cheat.  Talking  about  a  man  gaining  the  world  !  Who 
ever  gained  half  of  the  world  ?  Who  ever  owned  a  hemisphere  ?  Who  ever 
gained  a  continent  ?     Who  ever  owned  Asia  ?     Who  ever  gained  a  city  ?     Talk 


214 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


about  gaining  the  world !  No  man  ever  gained  it,  or  the  hundred-thousandth 
part  of  it.  You  are  demanding  that  I  sell  my  soul,  not  for  the  world,  but  for 
a  fragment  of  it.  Here  is  a  man  who  has  had  a  large  estate  for  forty  or 
fifty  years.  He  lies  down  to  die.  You  say,  "  That  man  is  worth  millions  and 
millions  of  dollars  !"  Is  he  ?  You  call  up  a  surveyor,  with  his  compass  and 
chains,  and  you  say :  "  There  is  a  property  extending  three  miles  in  one  direc- 
tion, and  three  miles  in  another  direction." 

Is  that  the  way  to  measure  that  man's  property  ?  No  !  You  do  not  want 
any  surveyor,  with  his  compass  and  chains.  That  is  not  the  way  you  want  to 
measure  that  man's  property  now.  It  is  an  undertaker  that  you  need,  who 
will  come  and  put  his  finger  in  his  vest  pocket,  and  take  out  a  tape  line,  and 


napoleon's  retreat  from  Moscow. — Painted  by  Adolphe   Yvon. 

he  will  measure  five  feet  nine  inches  one  way,  and  two  and  a  half  feet  the 
other  way.  That  is  the  man's  property.  Oh,  no;  I  forgot;  not  so  much  as 
that,  for  he  does  not  own  even  the  place  in  which  he  lies  in  the#  cemetery. 
The  deed  to  that  belongs  to  the  executors  and  the  heirs.  Oh,  what  a  property 
you  propose  to  give  me  for  my  soul !  If  you  sell  a  bill  of  goods  you  go  into 
the  counting  room  and  say  to  your  partner :  "  Do  you  think  that  man  is  good 
for  this  bill?     Can  he  give  proper  security?     Will  he  meet  this  payment?" 

Now,  when  you  are  offered  this  world  as  a  possession,  I  want  you  to  test 
the  matter.     I    do   not  want  you  to  go    into  this  bargain  blindly.     I  want  you 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


215 


to  ask  about  the  title,  about  the  insurance, 
about  whether  men  have  ever  had  •any- 
trouble  with  it,  about  whether  you  can  keep 
it,  about  whether  you  can  get  all,  or  the  ten- 
thousandth,  or  one  hundred-thousandth  part 
of  it. 

Now  let  us  look  at  the  other  property — 
the  soul.  We  cannot  make  a  bargain  with- 
out seeing  the  comparative  value.  The  soul. 
How  shall  I  estimate  the  value  of  it?  Well, 
by  its  exquisite  organization.  It  is  the 
most  wonderful  piece  of  mechanism  ever 
put  together.  Machinery  is  of  value  in 
proportion  as  it  is  mighty  and  silent  at 
the  same  time.  You  look  at  the  engine 
and  the  machinery  in  the  Philadelphia  Mint, 
and,  as  you  see  it  performing  its  wonderful 
work,  you  will  be  surprised  to  find  how 
silently  it  goes.  Machinery  that  roars  and 
tears  soon  destroys  itself;  but  silent 
machinery  is  often  most  effective.  Now,  so 
it  is  with  the  soul  of  man,  with  all  its 
tremendous  faculties — it  moves  in  silence. 
Judgment,  without  any  racket,  lifting  its 
scales ;  memory,  without  any  noise,  bringing 
down  ail  its  treasures;  conscience  taking  its 
judgment-seat  without  any  excitement;  the 
understanding  and  the  will  all  doing  their 
work.  Velocity,  majesty,  might ;  but 
silence — silence.  You  listen  at  the  door  of 
your  heart.  You  can  hear  no  sound.  The 
soul  is  all  quiet.  It  is  so  delicate  an  instru- 
ment that  no  human  hand  can  touch  it. 
You  break  a  bone,  and  with  splinters  and 
bandages  the  surgeon  sets  it ;  the  eye  be- 
comes inflamed,  the  apothecary's  wash  cools 
it ;  but  a  soul  off  the  track,  unbalanced,  no 
human  power  can  readjust  it.  With  one 
sweep  of  its  wing  it  circles  the  universe, 
and  overvaults  the  throne  of  God.  Why, 
in  the  hour  of  death  the  soul  is  so  mighty 
it  throws  aside  the  body  as  though  it  were  a  toy.  It  drives  back  medical  skill 
as  impotent.     It    breaks  through    the  circle    of  loved    ones    who    stand    around 


/ 


\i 


1 


(216) 


THE  VICTOR. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  217 

the  dying  couch.  With  one  leap,  it  springs  beyond  star  and  moon  and  sun, 
and  chasms  of  immensity.  Oh,  it  is  a  soul  superior  to  all  material  things ! 
No  fires  can  consume  it ;  no  floods  can  drown  it ;  no  rocks  can  crush  it ;  no 
walls  can  impede  it ;  no  time  can  exhaust  it.  It  wants  no  bridge  on  which 
to  cross  a  chasm.  It  wants  no  plummet  with  which  to  sound  a  depth.  A  soul 
so  mighty,  so  swift,  so  silent,  must  it  not  be  a  priceless  soul  ? 

THE   VALUE    AND    MEASURE    OF   A    SOUL. 

I  calculate  the  value  of  a  soul,  also,  by  its  capacity  for  happiness.  How 
much  joy  it  can  get  in  this  world  out  of  friendships,  out  of  books,  out  of 
elouds,  out  of  the  sea,  out  of  flowers,  out  of  ten  thousand  things ;  and  yet  all 
the  joy  it  has  here  does  not  test  its  capacity.  You  are  in  a  concert  before 
the  curtain  rises,  and  you  hear  the  instruments  preparing — the  sharp  snap 
•of  the  broken  string,  the  scrapings  of  the  bow  across  the  viol.  "There  is  no 
music  in  that,"  you  say.  It  is  only  getting  ready  for  the  music.  And  all 
the  enjoyment  of  the  soul  in  this  world,  the  enjoyment  we  think  is  real 
enjoyment,  is  only  preparative;  it  is  only  the  first  stages  of  the  thing;  it  is 
only  the  entrance,  the  beginning  of  that  which  shall  be  the  orchestral  har- 
monies and  splendors  of  the  redeemed. 

You  cannot  test  the  full  power  of  the  soul  for  happiness  in  this  world. 
How  much  power  the  soul  has  here  to  find  enjoyment  in  friendship !  but,  oh, 
the  grander  friendships  for  the  soul  in  the  skies !  How  sweet  the  flowers 
here  !  but  how  much  sweeter  they  will  be  there !  I  do  not  think  that  when 
flowers  die  on  earth  they  die  forever.  I  think  that  the  fragrance  of  the 
flowers  is  the  spirit  being  wafted  away  into  glory.  God  says  there  are  palm 
trees  in  heaven  and  fruits  in  heaven.  If  so,  why  not  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
flowers  ?  In  the  sunny  valleys  of  heaven  shall  not  the  marigold  creep  ?  On 
the  hills  of  heaven  will  not  the  amaranth  bloom  ?  On  the  amethystine  walls 
of  heaven  will  not  the  jasmine  climb?  "My  beloved  is  come  down  in  his 
garden  to  gather  lilies."  No  flowers  in  heaven  ?  Where,  then,  do  they  get 
their  garlands  for  the  brows  of  the  righteous  ? 

Christ  is  glorious  to  our  souls  now,  but  how  much  grander  our  apprecia- 
tion after  a  while !  A  conqueror  comes  back  after  the  battle.  He  has  been 
fighting  for  us.  He  comes  upon  the  platform.  He  has  one  arm  in  a  sling, 
and  the  other  arm  holds  a  crutch.  As  he  mounts  the  platform,  oh,  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  audience !  They  say :  "  That  man  fought  for  us  and 
imperilled  his  life  for  us ;"  and  how  wild  the  huzza  that  follows  huzza !  When 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  shall  at  last  stand  out  before  the  multitudes  of  the 
redeemed  of  heaven,  and  we  meet  Him  face  to '  face,  and  feel  that  He  was 
wounded  in  the  head,  and  wounded  in  the  hands,  and  wounded  in  the  feet, 
and  wounded  in  the  side  for  us,  methinks  we  will  be  overwhelmed.  We  will 
sit  some  time  gazing  in  silence,  until  some  leader  amidst  the  white-robed 
choir   shall   lift   the   baton    of  light,    and    give    the    signal    that    it   is    time    to 


2lS 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


wake    the    song    of    jubilee,    and    all     heaven     will    then    break     forth     into: 
"Hosanna!    hosanna!    hosanna!     Worthy    is    the    Lamb   that    was    slain." 

I  calculate  further  the  value  of  the  soul  by  the  price  that  has  been  paid 
for  it.  In  St.  Petersburg  there  is  a  diamond  that  the  government  paid 
$200,000  for.  "  Well,"  you  say,  "  it  must  have  been  very  valuable,  or  the 
government  would    not   have    paid    $200,000   for  it."     I  want    to    see  what    my 


THE  SAILOR'S  RETURN. 

soul  is  worth,  and  what  your  soul  is  worth,  by  seeing  what  has  been  paid  for 
it.  For  that  immortal  soul,  the  richest  blood  that  was  ever  shed,  the  deepest 
groan  that  was  ever  uttered,  all  the  griefs  of  earth  compressed  into  one  tear, 
all  the  sufferings  of  earth  gathered  into  one  rapier  of  pain  and  struck  through 
His  holy  heart.     Does  it  not  imply  tremendous  value  ? 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


219 


I  argue  also  the  value  of  the  soul  from  the  home  that  has  been  fitted  up 
for  it  in  the  future.  One  would  have  thought  a  street  of  adamant  would  have 
done.  No;  it  is  a  street  of  gold.  One  would  have  thought  that  a  wall  of 
granite  would  have  done.  No ;  it  is  the  flame  of  sardonyx  mingling  with  the 
green  of  emerald.  One  would  have  thought  that  an  occasional  doxology  would 
have  done.  No ;  it  is  a  perpetual  song.  If  the  ages  of  heaven  marched  in  e 
straight  line,  some  day  the  last  regiment,  perhaps,  might  pass  out  of  sight ; 
but,  no,  the  ages  of  heaven  do  not  march  in  a  straight  line,  but  in  a  circle 
around  about  the  throne  of  God ;  forever,  forever,  tramp,  tramp !  A  soul  so 
bought,  so  equipped,  so  provided  for,  must  be  a  priceless  soul,  a  majestic  soul,  a 
tremendous  soul. 

THE    STORY    OF   AN    HEROIC    SAILOR. 

I  was  reading  of  a  sailor  who  had  iust  got  ashore,  and  was  telling  about 
his  last  experience  at  sea.     He  said : 

"  The  last  time  I  crossed  the  ocean 
we  had  a  terrific  time.  After  we  had  been 
out  three  or  four  days  the  machinery  got 
disarranged  and  the  steam  began  to  escape, 
and  the  captain,  gathering  the  people  and 
the  crew  on  deck,  said :  '  Unless  some  one 
shall  go  down  aud  shut  off  that  steam 
and  arrange  that  machinery  at  the  peril 
of  his  life  we  must  all  be  destroyed.' 
He  was  not  willing  to  go  down  himself. 
No  one  seemed  willing  to  go.  The  pass- 
engers gathered  at  one  end  of  the  steamer, 
waiting  for  their  fate.  The  captain  said : 
'  I  give  you  a  last  warning.  If  there 
is  no  one  here  willing  to  imperil  his  life  and  go  down  and  fix  that 
machinery,  we  must  all'  be  lost.'  A  plain  sailor  said :  '  I'll  go,  sir,'  and  he 
wrapped  himself  in  a  coarse  piece  of  canvas  and  went  down,  and  was  gone 
but  a  few  moments  when  the  escaping  steam  stopped,  and  the  machinery  was 
corrected.  The  captain  cried  out  to  the  passengers :  'All  saved !  Let  us 
go  down  below  and  see  what  has  become  of  the  poor  fellow.'  They  went  down. 
There  he  lay  dead." 

Vicarious  suffering !  Died  for  all !  The  time  came  when  our  whole  race 
must  die  unless  some  one  should  endure  torture  and  sorrow  and  shame. 
Who  shall  come  to  the  rescue  ?  Shall  it  be  one  of  the  seraphim  ?  Not 
one.  Shall  it  be  one  of  the  cherubim  ?  Not  one.  Shall  it  be  an  inhabitant 
of  some  pure  and  uufallen  world?  Not  one.  Then  Christ  said:  "  Lo  !  I  come 
to  do  Thy  will,  O  God."  Oh,  the  love !  Oh,  the  endurance !  Oh,  the  horrors 
of  the  sacrifice!  Shall  not  our  souls  go  out  toward  Him,  saying:  "Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  take  my  soul.     Thou  art  worthy  to  have  it.     Thou  hast  died  to  save  it." 


THE   CROWN   OF   THORNS. 


Agnosticism. 


THE   FEAR   OF   PUNISHMENT,   AND   THE   RESULT   OF    CHRISTIAN 

CIVILIZATION. 

SOLAR  eclipse  was  prophesied  to  take  place  about  the  time 
of  the  destruction  of  ancient  Jerusalem.  Josephus,  the 
historian,  says  that  the  prophecy  was  literally  fulfilled, 
and  about  that  time  there  were  strange  appearances  in  the 
heavens.  The  sun  was  not  destroyed,  but  for  a  little 
while  hidden. 

Christianity  is  the  rising  sun  of  our  time,  and  men 
have  tried  with  the  uprolling  vapors  of  skepticism  and  the 
smoke  of  their  blasphemy  to  turn  the  sun  into  darkness. 
Suppose  the  archangels  of  malice  and  horror  should  be  let 
loose  a  little  while  and  be  allowed  to  extinguish  and 
destroy  the  sun  in  the  natural  heavens.  They  would  take 
the  oceans  from  other  worlds  and  pour  them  on  this  lumi- 
nary of  the  planetary  system,  and  the  waters  go  hissing 
down  amid  the  ravines  and  the  caverns,  and  there  is  explosion  after 
explosion,  until  there  are  only  a  few  peaks  of  fire  left  in  the  sun,  and 
these  are  cooling  down  and  going  out  until  the  vast  continents  of  flame  are 
reduced  to  a  small  acreage  of  fire,  and  that  whitens  and  cools  off  until  there  are 
only  a  few  coals  left,  and  these  are  whitening  and  going  out  until  there  is  not 
a  spark  left  in  all  the  mountains  of  ashes  and  the  valleys  of  ashes  and  the 
chasms  of  ashes.  An  extinguished  sun.  A  dead  sun.  A  buried  sun.  Let  all 
worlds  wail  at  the  stupendous  obsequies. 

Of  course,  this  withdrawal  of  the  solar  light  and  heat  throws  our  earth 
into  a  universal  chill,  and  the  Tropics  become  the  Temperate,  and  the  Temperate 
becomes  the  Arctic,  and  there  are  frozen  rivers  and  frozen  lakes  and  frozen 
oceans.  From  Arctic  and  Antarctic  regions  the  inhabitants  gather  in  toward  the 
centre  and  find  the  equator  as  the  poles.  The  slain  forests  are  piled  up  into 
a  great  bonfire,  and  around  them  gather  the  shivering  villages  and  cities.  The 
wealth  of  the  coal  mines  is  hastily  poured  into  the  furnaces  and  stirred  into 
rage  of  combustion,  but  soon  the  bonfires  begin  to  lower,  and  the  furnaces 
begin  to  go  out,  and  the  nations  begin  to  die.  Cotopaxi,  Vesuvius,  Etna, 
Stromboli,  Californian  geysers  cease  to  smoke,  and  the  ice  of  hailstorms  remains 
unmelted  in  their  crater.  All  the  flowers  have  breathed  their  last  breath.  Ships 
with  sailors  frozen  at  the  mast,  and  helmsmen  frozen  at  the  wheel,  and  passen- 
gers frozen  in  the  cabin ;    all  nations  dying,  first  at  the  north  and  then  at  the 

(220) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


221 


south.  Child  frosted  and  dead  in  the  cradle.  Octogenarian  frosted  and  dead 
at  the  hearth.  Workman  with  frozen  hand  on  the  hammer  and  frozen  foot  on 
the  shuttle.  Winter  from  sea  to  sea.  All-congeaiing  winter.  Perpetual  winter. 
Globe  of  frig- 
idity. Hemis- 
phere shackled 
to  hemisphere 
by  chains  of 
ice.  Universal 
Nova  Zembla. 
You  might  fly 
as  high  as 
Icarus,  and 
there  the  chill 
would  be  as 
great;  or  as 
low  as  Orpheus 
descended,  and 
yet  not  pene- 
trate beyond 
the  universal 
congelation. 
The  earth  and 
ice-floe  grind- 
ing against 
other  ice-floes. 
The  arch- 
angels of 
malice  and 
horror  have 
done  their 
work,  and  now 
they  may  take 
their  thrones 
of  glacier  and 
look  down 
upon  the  ruin 
they  have 
wrought. 

What    the 


daedalus  and  his  son  Icarus.—  From  a  Painting  by  Van  Dyck. 

Icarus  fled  on  wings  to  escape  the  fury  of  Minos,  but  his  flight  was  so  high  that  the  sun  melted  the  wax  unon 
his  wings  and  he  fell  into  the  sea. 


destruction  of  the  sun  in  the  natural  heavens  would  be  to  our  physical  earth, 
the  destruction  of  Christianity  would  be  to  the  moral  world— the  sun  turned 
into   darkness.     Infidelity  in   our   time  is  considered   a   great  joke.     There 


are 


222 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


people  who  rejoice  to  hear  Christianity  caricatured,  and  to  hear  Christ  assailed 
with  quibble  and  quirk  and  misrepresentation  and  badinage  and  harlequinade. 

I  propose  here  to  take  infidelity  and  atheism  out  of  the  realm  of  jocularity 
into  one   of   tragedy,  and   show   you  what   they    mean,    and    what,  if  they   are 

successful,  they  will  accom- 
,plish.  There  are  those  in  all 
our  communities  who  would 
like  to  see  the  Christian  re- 
ligion overthrown,  and  who 
say  the  world  would  be  better 
without  it.  I  want  to  show 
you  what  is  the  end  of  this 
road,  and  what  is  the  terminus 
of  this  crusade,  and  what 
this  world  will  be  when  athe- 
ism and  infidelity  have  tri- 
umphed over  it,  if  they  can.  I 
say,  if  they  can.  I  reiterate  it, 
if  they  can. 

In  the  first   place,  it  will 
be  the    complete    and  unutter- 
able   degradation    of    woman- 
hood,   converting    women   into 
slaves  or    creating    in  her  the 
fury     of    a    Clytemnestra.      I 
will     prove    it     by    facts     and 
arguments    which    no    honest 
man  will  dispute.     In  all  com- 
munities and  cities  and  States 
and    nations  where  the   Chris- 
tian  religion    has    been   domi- 
nant   woman's     condition    has 
been     ameliorated     and     im- 
proved, and  she  is  deferred  to 
and     honored     in    a    thousand 
things,   and    every    gentleman 
takes    off  his    hat    before  her. 
If     your      associations      have 
been  good,  you  know  that  the 
name    of  wife,    mother,    daughter,  suggests  gracious  surroundings.     You  know 
there    are    no    better    schools    and   seminaries   in    Brooklyn    or    in    any    city  of 
this    country   than    the    schools    and    seminaries    for    our   young   ladies.        You 
know    that    while    woman    may   suffer  injustice    in    England    and   the    United 


clytemnestra—  From  a  Painting  by  /no.  Collier. 

In  Grecian  Legends  the  daughter  of  Leda  and    King  of  Sparta.     She  slew  her  hus- 
band in  a  bath,  also  his  paramour  Cassandra.     She  in  turn  was  slain  by  Orestes. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  223 

States,   she    has  more    of  her   rights    in    Christendom   than   she   has   anywhere 
else. 

Now,  compare  this  with  woman's  condition  in  lands  where  Christianity 
has  made  little  or  no  advance — in  China,  in  Barbary,  in  Borneo,  in  Tartary, 
in  Egypt,  in  Hindostan.  The  Burmese  sell  their  wives  and  daughters  as  so 
many  sheep.  The  Hindoo  Bible  makes  it  disgraceful  and  an  outrage  for  a 
woman  to  listen  to  music,  or  look  out  of  the  window  in  the  absence  of  her 
husband,  and  gives  as  a  lawful  ground  for  divorce  a  woman's  beginning  to 
eat  before  her  husband  has  finished  his  meal.  What  mean  those  white  bun- 
dles on  the  ponds  and  rivers  in  China  in  the  morning?  Infanticide  following 
infanticide.  Female  children  destroyed  simply  because  they  are  female.  Woman 
harnessed  to  a  plow  as  an  ox.  Woman  veiled  and  barricaded,  and  in  all 
styles  of  cruel  seclusion.  Her  birth  a  misfortune.  Her  life  a  torture.  Her 
death  a  horror.  The  missionary  of  the  cross  to-day  in  heathen  lands  preaches 
generally  to  two  groups — a  group  of  men,  who  do  as  they  please  and  sit 
where  they  please ;  the  other  group — women,  hidden  and  carefully  secluded  in 
a  side  apartment,  where  they  may  hear  the  voice  of  the  preacher,  but  may 
not  be  seen.  No  refinement.  No  liberty.  No  hope  for  this  life.  No  hope 
for  the  life  to  come.  Ringed  hose.  Cramped  foot.  Disfigured  face.  Embruted 
soul.  Now  compare  those  two  conditions.  How  far  toward  this  latter  condi- 
tion that  I  speak  of  would  woman  go  if  Christian  influences  were  withdrawn 
and  Christianity  were  destroyed  ?  It  is  only  a  question  of  dynamics.  If  an 
object  be  lifted  to  a  certain  point  and  not  fastened  there,  and  the  lifting  power 
be  withdrawn,  how  long  before  that  object  will  fall  down  to  the  point  from 
which  it  started?  It  will  fall  down,  and  it  will  go  still  further  than  the 
point  from  which  it  started.  Christianity  has  lifted  woman  up  from  the  very 
depths  of  degradation  almost  to  the  skies.  If  that  lifting  power  be  withdrawn, 
she  falls  clear  back  to  the  depth  from  which  she  was  resurrected,  not  going 
any  lower  because  there  is  no  lower  depth.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  the  only  salvation  of  woman  from  degradation  and  woe  is  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  and  the  only  influence  that  has  ever  lifted  her  in  the  social 
scale  is  Christianity — I  have  read  that  there  are  women  who  reject  Chris- 
tianity. I  make  no  remark  in  regard  to  those  persons.  I  make  no  remark 
in  regard  to  them.     In  the  silence  of  your  own  soul    make   your  observations. 

THE   FEAR   OF   PUNISHMENT. 

If  infidelity  triumph  and  Christianity  be  overthrown,  it  means  the  demorali- 
zation of  society.  The  one  idea  in  the  Bible  that  atheists  and  infidels  most 
hate,  is  the  idea  of  retribution:  Take  away  the  idea  of  retribution  and  punish- 
ment from  society,  and  it  will  begin  very  soon  to  disintegrate ;  and  take  away 
from  the  minds  of  men  the  fear  of  hell,  and  there  are  a  great  many  of  them 
who  would  very  soon  turn  this  world  into  a  hell.  The  majority  of  those  who 
are    indignant    against  the  Bible  because   of  the   idea  of  punishment  are  men 


224 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


whose  lives  are  bad  or  whose  hearts  are  impure,  and  who  hate  the  Bible  because 
of  the  idea  of  future  punishment  for  the  same  reason  that  criminals  hate  the 


NOBLE  WOMANHOOD. 


penitentiary.      Oh,  I  have  heard  this    brave  talk  about    people  fearing  nothing 
of  the  consequences  of  sin  in  the  next  world,  and  I  have  made   up  my  mind 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  225 

it  is  merely  a  coward's  whistling  to  keep  his  courage  up.  I  have  seer,  men 
flaunt  their  immoralities  in  the  face  of  the  community,  and  I  have  heard  them 
defy  the  judgment-day  and  scoff  at  the  idea  of  any  future  consequence  of  their 
sin;  but  when  they  came  to  die  they  shrieked  until  you  could  hear  them  for 
nearly  two  blocks,  and  in  the  summer  night  the  neighbors  got  up  to  put  the 
windows  down  because  they  could  not  endure  the  horror. 

I  would  not  want  to  see  a  rail  train  with  five  hundred  Christian  people  on 
board  go  down  through  a  draw-bridge  into  a  watery  grave.  I  would  not  want 
to  see  five  hundred  Christian  people  go  into  such  disaster,  but  I  tell  you  plainly 
that  I  could  more  easily  see  that  than  I  could  for  any  protracted  time  stand 
and  see  an  infidel  die,  though  his  pillow  were  of  eider-down  and  under  a 
canopy  of  vermilion.  I  have  never  been  able  to  brace  up  my  nerves  for  such 
a  spectacle.  There  is  something  at  such  a  time  so  indescribable  in  the  coun- 
tenance. I  just  looked  in  upon  it  for  a  minute  or  two,  but  the  clutch  of  his 
fist  was  so  diabolic,  and  the  strength  of  voice  was  so  unnatural,  I  could  not 
endure  it.  "  There  is  no  hell,  there  is  no  hell,  there  is  no  hell !"  the  man 
had  said  for  sixty  years ;  but  that  night,  when  I  looked  in  the  dying  room 
of  my  infidel  neighbor,  there  was  something  on  his  countenance  which  seemed 
to  say :  "There  is,  there   is,  there  is,  there  is!" 

The  mightiest  restraints  to-day  against  theft,  immorality,  against  libertinism, 
against  crime  of  all  sorts — the  mightiest  restraints  are  the  retributions  of 
eternity.  Men  know  that  they  can  escape  the  law,  but  down  in  the  offender's 
soul  there  is  the  realization  of  the  fact  that  they  cannot  escape  God.  He  stands 
at  the  end  of  the  road  of  profligacy,  and  he  will  not  clear  the  guilty.  Take 
all  idea  of  retribution  and  punishment  out  of  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men, 
and  it  would  not  be  long  before  Brooklyn  and  New  York,  and  Boston,  and 
Charleston,  and  Chicago  became  Sodoms.  The  only  restraints  against  the  evil 
passions  of  the  world  to-day  are  Bible  restraints. 

AS  THE   INFIDELS   WOULD   HAVE   IT. 

Suppose  now  these  generals  of  atheism  and  iafidelity  got  the  victory,  and 
suppose  they  marshalled  a  great  army  made  up  of  the  majority  of  the  world. 
They  are  in  companies,  in  regiments,  in  brigades — the  whole  army.  Forward, 
march,  ye  hosts  of  infidels  and  atheists,  banners  flying  before,  banners  flying 
behind,  banners  inscribed  with  the  words:  "No  God!  No  Christ!  No  punish- 
ment! No  restraints!  Down  with  the  Bible!  Do  as  you  please!"  The  sun 
turned  into  darkness. 

Forward,  march !  ye  great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists.  And  first  of  all 
you  will  attack  the  churches.  Away  with  those  houses  of  worship !  They 
,\ave  been  standing  there  so  long  deluding  the  people  with  consolation  in  their 
bereavements  and  sorrows.  All  those  churches  ought  to  be  extirpated ;  the}- 
have  done  so  much  to  relieve  the  lost  and  bring  home  the  wandering,  and 
they  have  so  long  held  up  the  idea  of  eternal  rest  after  the  paroxysm  of  this  life 
IS 


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(226) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


227 


is  over.     Turn  the  St.  Peters,  and  St.  Pauls,  and  the   temples,  and  tabernacles 
into  club  houses.      Away  with  those  churches ! 

Forward,  march !  ye  great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists,  and  next  of  all 
they  scatter  the  Sabbath-schools — the  Sabbath-schools  filled  with  bright-eyed, 
bright-cheeked  little  ones,  who  are  singing  songs  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and 
getting  instruction  when  they  ought  to  be  on  the  street  corners  playing  mar- 
bles, or  swearing  on  the  commons.  Away  with  them !  Forward,  march  !  ye 
great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists,  and  next  of  all  they  will    attack  Christian 


MOTHERLESS. 


asylum"-—  the  institutions  of  mercy  supported  by  Christian  philanthropies. 
Never  mind  the  blind  eyes  and  the  deaf  ears  and  the  crippled  limbs  and  the 
weakened  intellects.  Let  paralyzed  old  age  pick  up  its  own  food,  and  orphans 
fight  their  own  way,  and  the  half  reformed  go  back  to  their  evil  habits.  For- 
ward, march  !  ye  great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists,  and  with  your  battle-axe 
hew  down  the  cross  and  split  up  the  manger  of  Bethlehem. 

On,    ye    great    army  of  infidels    and    atheists,   and    now    they  come    to    the 
graveyards  and  the  cemeteries  of  the    earth.       Pull    down    the    sculpture    above 


228 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


Greenwood's  gate,  for  it  means  the  resurrection.  Tear  away  at  the  entrance 
of  Laurel  Hill  the  figure  of  old  Mortality  and  the  chisel.  On,  ye  great  army 
of  infidels  and  atheists,  into  the  graveyards  and  cemeteries ;  and  where  you 
see  "Asleep  in  Jesus,"  cut  it  away,  and  where  you  find  a  marble  story  of 
heaven,  blast  it ;  and  where  you  find  over  a  little  child's  grave  "  Suffer  little- 
children  to  come  unto  me,"  substitute  the  words  "  Delusion  "  and  "  Sham  ;  " 
and  where  you  find  an  angel  in  marble,  strike  off  the  wing;  and  when  you 
come  to  a  family  vault,  chisel  on  the  door,  "  Dead  once,  dead  forever." 


GRIEF. 


But  on,  ye  great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists,  on !  They  will  attempt 
to  scale  heaven.  There  are  heights  to  be  taken.  Pile  hill  on  hill  and  Pelion 
upon  Ossa,  and  then  they  hoist  the  ladders  against  the  walls  of  heaven.  On 
and  on,  until  they  blow  up  the  foundations  of  jasper  and  the  gates  of  pearl. 
They  charge  up  the  steep.  Now  they  aim  for  the  throne  of  Him  who  lives 
lorever  and  ever.  They  would  take  down  from  their  high  place  the  Father, 
the  Son,  the  Holy  Ghost.  "  Down  with  them !  "  they  say.  "  Down  with  Him 
from  the  throne !  "  they  say.  Down  forever !  Down  out  of  sight !  He  is  not 
God.     He  has  no  right  to  sit  there.     Down  with  Him !     Down  with  Christ !" 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


229 


A   NEFARIOUS   PLOT. 

A  world  without  a  head,  a  universe  without  a  king.  Orphan  constella- 
tions. Fatherless  galaxies.  Anarchy  supreme.  A  dethroned  Jehovah.  An 
assassinated  God.  Patricide,  regicide,  Deicide.  That  is  what  they  mean.  That 
is  what  they  will  have,  if  they  can,  if  they  can,  if  they  can.  Civilization 
hurled  back  into  semi-barbarism,  and  semi-barbarism  driven  back  into  Hotten- 
tot savagery.  The  wheel  of  progress  turned  the  other  way,  and  turned  toward 
the  Dark  Ages.  The  clock  of  the  centuries  put  back  2000  years.  Go  back, 
3'ou  Sandwich  Islands,  from  your  schools  and  from  your  colleges  and  from 
your  reformed  condition  to  what  you  were  in  1820,  when  the  missionaries  first 
came.  Call  home  the  500  missionaries  from  India  and  overthrow  their  2000 
schools,  where  they  are  trying  to  educate  the  heathen,  and  scatter  the  140,000 
little  children  that  they 
have  gathered  out  of  bar- 
barism into  civilization. 
Obliterate  all  the  work 
of  Dr.  Duff  in  India,  of 
David  Abeel  in  China, 
of  Dr.  King  in  Greece,  of 
Judson  in  Burmah,  of 
David  Brainard  amid  the 
American  aborigines,  and 
send  home  the  3000  mis- 
sionaries of  the  cross  who 
are  toiling  in  foreign 
lands,  toiling  for  Christ's 
sake,  toiling  themselves 
into  the  grave.  Tell 
these  3000  men  of  God  that  they  are  cf  no  use.  Send  home  the  medical 
missionaries  who  are  doctoring  the  bodies  as  well  as  the  souls  of  the  dying 
nations.  Go  home,  London  Missionary  Society.  Go  home,  American  Board 
of  Foreign  Missions.  Go  home,  ye  Moravians,  and  relinquish  back  into  dark- 
ness, and  squalor,  and  filth,  and  death  the  nations  whom  ye  have  begun  to  lift. 

Oh,  my  friends,  there  has  never  been  such  a  nefarious  plot  on  earth  as 
that  which  infidelity  and  atheism  have  planned.  We  were  shocked  a  few 
years  ago  because  of  the  attempt  to  blow  up  the  Parliament  Houses  in  Lon- 
don; but  if  infidelity  and  atheism  succeed  in  their  attempt,  they  will  dynamite 
the  world.  Let  them  have  their  full  way,  and  this  world  will  be  a  habitation 
of  three  rooms — a  habitation  with  just  three  rooms;  the  one  a  mad-house,  an- 
other a  lazaretto,  the  other  a  pandemonium.  These  infidel  bands  of  music  have 
only  just  begun  their  concert — yea,  they  have  only  been  stringing  their  instru- 
ments.    I    here  put    before   you    their   whole   programme,  from    beginning    unto 


THE   FALL   Or    ADAM. 


230 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


close.  In  the  theatre  the  tragedy  comes  first  and  the  farce  afterward,  but  in 
this  infidel  drama  of  death  the  farce  comes  first  and  the  tragedy  afterward. 
And  in  the  former,  atheists  and  infidels  laugh  and  mock,  but  in  the  latter,  God 
himself  will  laugh  and  mock.  He  says  so.  "  I  will  laugh  at  their  calamity 
and  mock  when  their  fear  cometh." 

From  such  a  chasm  of  individual,  national,  world-wide  ruin,  stand  back. 
O  young  men,  stand  back  from  that  chasm !  'You  see  the  practical  drift  of 
the  alarum  which  I  here  thus  sound.  I  want  you  to  know  where  that  road 
Jeads.  Stand  back  from  that  chasm  of  ruin.  The  time  is  going  to  come  (you 
and  I  may  not  live  to  see  it,  but  it  will  come,  just  as  certainly  as  there  is  a 
God,  it  will  come)  when  the  infidels  and  atheists  who  openly  and  out  and  out 
and  above  board  preach  and  practise  infidelity  and  atheism  will  be  considered 
as  criminals  against  society,  as  they  are    now  criminals    against    God.     Society 

will  push  out  the  leper, 
and  the  wretch  with  soul 
gangrened  and  ichorous 
and  vermin-covered  and 
rotting  apart  with  his 
beastiality,  will  be  left 
to  die  in  the  ditch  and 
be  denied  decent  burial, 
and  men  will  come  with 
spades  and  cover  up  the 
carcass  where  it  falls, 
that  it  poison  not  the 
air,  and  the  only  text 
in  all  the  Bible  appro- 
priate for  the  funeral 
sermon  will  be  that  found 
He  shall  be  buried  with  the  burial  of  an  ass." 


THE  DELUGE. 


in  the  book  of  Jeremiah  xxii.  19 


THE   SAME   SUN. 

A  thousand  voices  come  up  to  me  as  I  write,  saying:  "Do  you  really 
think  infidelity  will  succeed  ?  Has  Christianity  received  its  death-blow  ?  and 
will  the  Bible  become  obsolete  ?"  Yes,  when  the  smoke  of  the  chimney  arrests 
and  destroys  the  noonday  sun.  Josephus  says  about  the  time  of  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem  the  sun  was  turned  into  darkness  ;  but  only  the  clouds  rolled 
between  the  sun  and  the  earth.  The  sun  went  right  on.  It  is  the  same  sun, 
the  same  luminary  as  when  at  the  beginning  it  shot  out  like  an  electric  spark 
from  God's  finger,  and  to-day  it  is  warming  the  nations,  and  to-day  it  is  gilding 
the  sea,  and  to-day  it  is  filling  the  earth  with  light.  The  same  old  sun,  not  all 
worn  out,  though  its  light  steps  190,000,000  miles  a  second,  though  its  pulsations 
are  four  hundred  and  fifty  trillion  undulations  in  a  second.     Same  sun  with  beauti- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


231 


ful  white  light,  made  up  of  the  violet,  and  the  indigo,  and  the  blue,  and  the 
green,  and  the  red,  and  the  yellow,  and  the  orange — the  seven  beautiful  colors 
now  just  as  when  the  solar  spectrum  first  divided  them. 

At  the  beginning  God  said :  "  Let  there  be  light,"  and  light  was,  and 
light  is,  and  light  shall  be.  So  Christianity  is  rolling  on,  and  it  is  going  to 
warm  all  nations,  and  all  nations  are  to  bask  in  its  light.  Men  may  shut  the 
window-blinds  so  they  cannot  see  it,  or  they  may  smoke  the  pipe  of  specula- 
tion until  they  are  shadowed  under  their  own  vaporing;  but  the  Lord  God  is 
a  sun !  This  white  light  of  the  gospel,  made  up  of  all  the  beautiful  colors  of 
earth  and  heaven — violet  plucked  from  amid  the  spring  grass,  and  the  indigo 
of  the  southern  jungles,  and  the  blue  of  the  skies,  and  the  green  of  the  foliage, 
and  the  yellow  of  the  autumnal  woods,  and  the  orange  of  the  southern  groves, 
and  the  red  of  the  sunsets.  All  the  beauties  of  earth  and  heaven  brought  out 
by  this  spiritual  spectrum.  Great  Britain  is  going  to  take  all  Europe  for  God. 
The  United  States  are  going  to  take  all  America  for  God.  Both  of  them  to- 
gether will  take  all  Asia  for  God.  All  three  of  them  will  take  Africa  for  God, 
and  the  world  will  be  redeemed,  with  Christ  the  ruler,  and  love  and  righteous- 
ness will  prevail  universally. 


JHatbrls  of  (grntus. 


,/>v£ttH*  MEN   DISTINGUISHED   IN    HISTORY   WHO    BEGAN   LIFE   IN 

!///^P^t^>^;/y^|J---x  POVERTY   AND   AFFLICTION. 

E  have    in    the    thirty-third    chapter    of    Isaiah    a    com- 
mand given,  or  rather  implied,  that  the    "  lame    take 
the  prey."     It  also,  and    more    directly,  perhaps,  pre- 
dicts the  utter  demolition  of  the  Assyrian  host.     Not 
only  robust  men    should    go    forth    and    gather  the  spoils 
of  conquest,  but  even  men  crippled  of  arm    and    crippled 
of    foot     should     go    out    and     capture    much    that    was 
valuable.     Their    physical    disadvantages  should  not    hin- 
der their  great  enrichment.     So   it  has    been  in  the  past, 
so  it  is    now,  so    it    will    be  in    the    future.     So  it    is    in    all 
departments.       Men    labor    under    seemingly    great    disadvan- 
tages,   and    amid    the    most    unfavorable    circumstances,    yet 
making  grand  achievements,  getting  great  blessing    for  them- 
selves, great  blessing    for  the    world,    great    blessing    for    the 
Church,  and  so  "  the  lame  take  the  prey." 

Do  you  know  that  the  three  great  poets  of  the  world 
were  totally  blind  ?  Homer,  Ossian,  John  Milton.  Do  you 
know  that  Mr.  Prescott,  who  wrote  that  enchanting  book, 
"The  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  never  saw  Mexico,  could  not 
even  see  the  paper  of  which  he  was  writing  ?  A  framework 
across  the  sheet,  between  which,  up  and  down,  went  the  pen 
immortal.  Do  you  know  that  Gambassio,  the  sculptor,  could 
not  see  the  marble  before  him,  or  the  chisel  with  which  he  cut  it  into  shapes 
bewitching  ?  Do  you  know  that  Alexander  Pope,  whose  poems  will  last  as 
long  as  the  English  language,  was  so  much  of  an  invalid  that  he  had  to  be 
sewed  up  every  morning  in  rough  canvas  in  order  to  stand  on  his  feet 
at  all? 

Do  you  know  that  Stuart,  the  celebrated  painter,  did  much  of  his  won- 
derful work  under  the  shadow  of  the  dungeon,  where  he  had  been  unjustly 
imprisoned  for  debt?  Do  you  know  that  Demosthenes  by  almost  superhuman 
exertion  first  had  to  conquer  the  lisp  of  his  own  speech  before  he  conquered 
assemblages  with  his  eloquence  ?  Do  you  know  that  Bacon  struggled  all 
through  innumerable  sicknesses,  and  that  Lord  Byron  and  Sir  Walter  Scott 
went  limping  on  clubfoot  through  all  their  life,  and  that  many  of  the  great 
poets    and    painters    and    orators    and    historians    and    heroes  of  the  world  had 

(232) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE 


something  to  keep  them 
back,  and  pull  them  down, 
and  impede  their  way,  and 
cripple  their  physical  or 
their  intellectual  move- 
ment, and  yet  that  they 
pushed  on  and  pushed  up 
until  they  reached  the 
spoils  of  worldly  success, 
and  amid  the  huzza  of 
nations  and  centuries  "  the 
lame  took  the  prey." 

You  know  that  a  vast 
multitude  of  these  men 
started  under  the  disad- 
vantage of  obscure  parent- 
age. Columbus,  the  son 
of  the  weaver.  Ferguson, 
the  astronomer,  the  son 
of  the  shepherd.  America 
the  prey  of  the  one; 
worlds  on  worlds  the  prey 
of  the  other.  But  what 
is  true  in  secular  direc- 
tions, is  more  true  in  spirit- 
ual and  religious  direc- 
tions, and  I  proceed  to 
prove  it. 

There  are  in  all  com- 
munities many  invalids. 
They  never  knew  a  well 
day.  They  adhere  to  their 
occupations,  but  they  go 
panting  along  the  streets 
with  exhaustions,  and  at 
eventi me  they  lie  down  on 
the  lounge  with  achings 
beyond  all  medicament. 
They  have  tried  all  pre- 
scriptions ;  they  have  gone 
through  all  the  cures  which 
were  proclaimed  infallible, 
and  they  have  come  now 
to  surrender  to  perpetual 


234 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


ailments.  They  consider  they  are  among  many  disadvantages,  and  when  they 
see  those  who  are  buoyant  in  health  pass  by,  they  almost  envy  their  robust 
frames  and  easy  respiration. 

But  I  have  noticed  among  that  invalid  class  those  who  have  the  greatest  knowl- 
edge of  the  Bible,  who  are  in  nearest  intimacy  with  Jesus  Christ,  who  have  the  most 
glowing  experiences  of  the  truth,  who  have  had  the  most  remarkable  answers 
to  prayer,  and  who  have  the  most  exhilarant  anticipations  of  heaven.  The 
temptations  which  weary  us  who  are  in  robust  health  they  have  conquered. 
They  have  divided  among  them  the  spoils  of  the  conquest.  Many  who  are 
alert  and  athletic  and  strong  loiter  in  the  way.  These  are  the  lame  that  take 
the  prey.  Robert  Hall  an  invalid,  Edward  Payson  an  invalid,  Richard  Baxter 
an  invalid,  Samuel  Rutherford  an  invalid.  Through  raised  letters  the  art  of 
printing  has  been  brought  to  the  attention  of  the  blind. 

You  take  up  the 
Bible  for  the  blind  and 
you  close  your  eyes  and 
you  run  your  fingers 
over  the  raised  letters, 
and  you  say  :  "  Why, 
I  never  could  get  any 
information  in  this 
way.  What  a  slow, 
lumbrous  way  of  read- 
ing !  God  help  the 
blind." 

And  yet  I  find 
among  that  class  of 
persons,  among  the 
blind,  the  deaf  and  the 
dumb,  the  most  thor- 
ough acquaintance 
with  God's  word.  Shut  out  from  all  other  sources  of  information,  no  sooner 
does  their  hand  touch  the  raised  letter  than  they  gather  a  prayer.  Without 
eyes,  they  look  off  upon  the  kingdoms  or  God's  love.  Without  hearing,  they 
catch  the  minstrelsy  of  the  skies.  Dumb,  yet  with  pencil  or  with  irradiated 
countenance  they  declare  the   glory  of  God. 

THE    DEAF   AND    DUMB. 

A  large  audience  assembled  in  New  York  at  the  anniversary  of  the  Deaf 
and  Dumb  Asylum,  and  one  of  the  visitors,  with  chalk  on  the  blackboard,  wrote 
this  question  to  the  pupils  :  "  Do  you  not  find  it  very  hard  to  be  deaf  and 
dumb  ?" 

And  one   of  the  pupils  took  the   chalk    and  wrote   on  the   blackboard  this 


BRINGING   HOME   THE   LOST   SHEEP 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


235 


sublime  sentence  in  answer :  "  When  the  song  of  the  angels  shall  burst  upon 
our  enraptured  ear,  we  will  scarce  regret  that  our  ears  were  never  marred  with 
earthly  sounds." 

Oh,  the  brightest  eyes  in  heaven  will  be  those  that  never  saw  on  earth. 
The  ears  most  alert  in  heaven  will  be  those  that  in  this  world  heard  neither 
voice  of  friend,  nor  thrum  of  harp,  nor  carol  of  bird,  nor  doxology  of  congre- 
gations. 

A  lad  who  had  been  blind  from  infancy  was  cured.  The  oculist  operated 
upon  the  lad,  and  then  put  a  very  heavy  bandage  over  the  eyes,  and  after  a 
few  weeks  had  gone  by  the  bandage  was  removed,  and  the  mother  said  to  her 
child:  "Willie,  can  you  see?"     He  said:  "Oh!  mamma,  is  this  heaven?" 

The  contrast  between  the  darkness  before  and  the  brightness  afterward  was 
overwhelming.  And  I  tell  you  the  glories  of  heaven  will  be  a  thousand-fold 
brighter  for  those  who  never  saw  anything  on  earth.  While  many  with  good 
vision  closed  their  eyes  in  night,  and  many  who  had  a  good  artistic  and  cul- 
tured ear  went  down 
into  discord,  these 
afflicted  ones  cried  un- 
to the  Lord  in  their 
trouble,  and  he  made 
their  sorrows  their  ad- 
vantage, and  so  " the 
lame    took    the  prey." 

In  the  seventh 
century  there  was  a 
legend  of  St.  Modobert. 
It  was  said  that  his 
mother  was  blind,  and 
one  day  while  looking  at  his  mother  he  felt  so  sympathetic  for  her-  blindness 
that  he  rushed  forward  and  kissed  her  blind  eyes,  and  the  legend  says  her 
vision  came  immediately.  That  was  only  a  legend,  but  it  is  a  truth,  a 
glorious  truth,  that  a  kiss  of  God's  eternal  love  has  brought  to  many  a  blind 
eye  eternal  illumination. 

There  are  those  in  all  communities  who  toil  mightily  for  a  livelihood. 
They  have  scant  wages.  Perhaps  they  are  diseased,  or  have  physical  infirmi- 
ties, so  they  are  hindered  from  doing  a  continuous  day's  work.  A  city  mis- 
sionary finds  them  up  the  dark  alley,  with  no  fire,  with  thin  clothing,  with 
very  coarse  bread.  They  never  ride  in  the  street-car ;  they  cannot  afford  the 
five  cents.  They  never  see  any  pictures  save  those  in  the  show-window  on 
the  street,  from  which  they  are  often  jostled,  and  looked  at  by  some  one  who 
seems  to  say  in  the  look :  "  Move  on.  What  are  you  doing  here  looking  at 
pictures  ?" 

Yet  many  of  them  live  on  mountains   of  transfiguration.     At   their  rough 


FEEDING  THE   MULTITUDE. 


236  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

table  He  who  fed  the  five  thousand  breaks  the  bread.  They  talk  often  of  the 
good  times  that  are  coming.  This  world  has  no  charm  for  them,  but  heaven 
entrances  their  spirit.  They  often  divide  their  scant  crust  with  some  forlorn 
wretch  who  knocks  at  their  door  at  night,  and  on  the  blast  of  the  night  wind, 
as  the  door  opens  to  let  him  in,  is  heard  the  voice  of  Him  who  said :  "  I 
was  hungry  and  ye  fed  me."  No  cohort  of  heaven  will  be  too  bright  to 
transport  them.  By  God's  help  they  have  vanquished  the  Assyrian  hosts. 
They  have  divided  among  them  the  spoils.  Lame,  lame,  yet  they  took 
the  prey. 

A    LAME    OLD    MAN. 

I  was  riding  along  a  country  road  one  day,  and  I  saw  a  man  on  crutches. 
I  overtook  him.  He  was  very  old.  He  was  going  very  slowly.  At  that  rate 
it  would  have  taken  him  two  hours  to  go  a  mile. 

I  said:    "Wouldn't  you  like  to  ride?" 

He  said:  "Thank  you,  I  would.  God  bless  you."  When  he  sat  beside 
me,  he  said :  "  You  see,  I  am  very  lame  and  very  old,  but  the  Lord  has  been 
a  good  Lord  to  me.  I  have  buried  all  my  children.  The  Lord  gave  them, 
and  the  Lord  had  a  right  to  take  them  away.  Blessed  be  His  name.  I  was 
very  sick,  and  I  had  no  money,  and  my  neighbors  came  in  and  took  care  of 
me,  and  I  wanted  nothing.  I  suffer  a  great  deal  with  pain,  but  then  I  have 
so  many  mercies  left.     The  Lord  has  been  a  good  Lord  to  me." 

And  before  we  had  got  far  I  was  in  doubt  whether  I  was  giving  him  a 
ride  or  he  was  giving  me  a  ride !     He  said : 

"  Now,  if  you  please,  I'll  get  out  here.  Just  help  me  down  on  my 
crutches,  if  you  please.  God  bless  you.  Thank  you,  sir.  Good  morning. 
Good  morning.  You  have  been  feet  to  the  lame,  sir,  you  have.  Good 
morning." 

Strong  men  had  gone  the  road  that  day.  I  do  not  know  where  they 
came  out,  but  every  hobble  of  that  old  man  was  toward  the  shining  gate. 
With  his  old  crutch  he  had  struck  down  many  a  Sennacherib  of  temptation 
which  has  mastered  you  and  me.  Lame,  so  fearfully  lame,  so  awfully  lame; 
but  he  took  the  prey. 

There  are  in  all  communities  many  orphans.  During  our  last  war,  and  in 
the  years  immediately  following,  how  many  children  we  heard  say :  "  Oh !  my 
father  was  killed  in  the  war." 

Have  you  ever  noticed — I  fear  you  have  not — how  well  those  children 
have  turned  out  ?  Starting  under  the  greatest  disadvantage,  no  orphan  asylum 
could  do  for  them  what  their  father  would  have  done  had  he  lived.  The 
skirmisher  sat  one  night,  by  the  light  of  fagots,  in  the  swamp,  writing  a  letter 
home,  when  a  sharpshooter's  bullet  ended  the  letter,  which  was  never  folded, 
never  posted,  and  never  read. 

Those  children  came  up  under  great  disadvantage.  No  father  to  fight 
their  way  for  them.     Perhaps  there  was  in  the  old  family  Bible  an  old  yellow 


the  empty  saddle. — From  the  Painting  by  S.  E.   Waller. 


(237) 


238 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


letter  pasted  fast,  which  told  the  story  of  that  father's  long  march,  and  how 
he  suffered  in  the  hospital ;  but  they  looked  still  further  on  in  the  Bible,  and 
they  came  to  the  story  of  how  God  is  the  father  of  the  fatherless,  and  the 
widow's  portion,  and  they  soon  took  their  father's  place  in  that  household. 
They  battled  the  way  for  their  mother.  They  came  on  up,  and  many  of  them 
have  in  the  years  since  the  war  taken  positions  in  Church  and  State.  While 
many  of  those  who  suffered  nothing  during  those  times  have  had  sons  go  out 
into  lives  of  indolence  and  vagabondage,  those  who  started  under  so  many 
disadvantages  because  they  were  so  early  bereft — these  are  the  lame  who  took 
the  prey. 


RECITING   INCIDENTS   OF   HIS  VALOR. 


There  are  those  who  would  like  to  do  good.  They  say  :  "  Oh !  If  I  only 
had  wealth,  or  if  I  had  eloquence,  or  if  I  had  high  social  position,  how  much  I 
would  accomplish  for  God  and  the  Church." 

I  tell  you  that  you  have  great  opportunities  for  usefulness. 


WHAT    WORKINGMEN    HAVE    DONE. 


Who  built  the  Pyramids  ?  The  king  who  ordered  them  built  ?  No  ;  the  plain 
workmen  who  added  stone  after  stone  and  stone  after  stone.  Who  built  the 
dikes  of  Holland  ?  The  Government  that  ordered  the  enterprise  ?  No ;  the  plain 
workmen  who  carried  the  earth  and  rung  their  trowel  on  the  wall.  Who  are 
those  who  have  built  these  vast  cities?    The  capitalists?    No;  the  carpenters, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  239 

the  masons,  the  plumbers,  the  plasterers,  the  tinners,  the  roofers,  dependent  on 
a  day's  wages  for  a  livelihood.  And  so  in  the  great  work  of  assuaging  human 
suffering  and  enlightening  human  ignorance  and  halting  human  iniquity.  In 
that  great  work,  the  chief  part  is  to  be  done  by  ordinary  men,  with  ordinary 
speech,  in  an  ordinary  manner,  and  by  ordinary  means.  The  trouble  is  that  in 
the  army  of  Christ  we  all  want  to  be  captains  and  colonels  and  brigadier- 
generals.  We  are  not  willing  to  march  with  the  rank  and  file  and  to  do  duty 
with  the  private  soldier.  We  want  to  belong  to  the  reserve  corps,  ind  read  about 
the  battle  while  warming  ourselves  at  the  camp-fires,  or  on  furh.  gh  at  home, 
our  feet  upon  an  ottoman,  we    sagging  back  into  an  arm-chair. 

As  you  go  down  the  street  you  see  an  excavation  and  four  or  five  men 
are  working,  and  perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  leaning  on  the  rail  looking  over  at 
them.  That  is  the  way  it  is  in  the  Church  of  God  to-day.  Where  you  find 
one  Christian  hard  at  work  there  are  fifty  men  watching  the  job. 

Oh,  my  friends !  why  do  you  not  go  to  work  and  preach  this  gospel  ?  You 
say,  "  I  have  no  pulpit."  You  have.  It  may  be  the  carpenter's  bench ;  it  may 
be  the  mason's  wall.  The  robe  in  which  you  are  to  proclaim  this  gospel  may 
be  a  shoemaker's  apron.  But  woe  unto  you  if  you  preach  not  this  gospel 
somewhere,  somehow  !  If  this  world  is  ever  brought  to  Christ  it  will  be  through 
the  unanimous  and  long-continued  efforts  of  men  who,  waiting  for  no  special 
endowment,  consecrate  to  God  what  they  have.  Among  the  most  useless  people 
in  the  world  are  men  with  ten  talents,  while  many  a  one  with  only  two  talents, 
or  no  talent  at  all,  is  doing  a  great  work,  and  so  "  the  lame  take  the  prey." 

SABBATH-SCHOOL   TEACHERS. 

There  are  thousands  of  ministers  of  whom  you  have  never  heard — in  log 
cabins  at  the  West,  in  mission  chapels  at  the  East — who  are  warring  against 
the  legions  of  darkness,  successfully  warring.  Tract  distributors,  month  by 
month  undermining  the  citadels  of  sin.  You  do  not  know  their  going  or  their 
coming,  but  the  footfalls  of  their  ministry  are  heard  in  the  palaces  of  heaven. 
Who  are  the  workers  in  our  Sabbath-schools  throughout  this  land  to-day  ?  Men 
celebrated,  men  of  vast  estate  ?  For  the  most  part,  not  that  at  all.  I  have 
noticed  that  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  most  of  those  who  are  successful  in 
the  work  is  that  they  know  their  Bibles,  are  earnest  in  prayer,  are  anxious 
for  the  salvation  of  the  young,  and  Sabbath  by  Sabbath  are  willing  to  sit  down 
unobserved  and  tell  of  Christ  and  the  resurrection.  These  are  the  humble 
workers  who  are  recruiting  the  great  army  of  Christian  youth — not  by  might, 
not  by  power,  not  by  profound  argument,  not  by  brilliant  antithesis,  but  by  the 
blessing  of  God  on  plain  talk,  and  humble  story,  and  silent  tear,  and  anxious 
look.     "The  lame  take  the  prey." 

Oh !  this  work  of  saving  the  youth  of  our  country — how  few  appreciate 
what  it  is !  This  generation  tramping  on  to  the  grave — we  will  soon  all  be 
gone.      What  next? 


240 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


An  engineer  on  a  locomotive  going  across  the  Western  prairies  da}'  after 
day,  saw  a  little  child  come  out  in  front  of  a  cabin  and  wave  to  him  ;  so  he 
got  in  the  habit  of  waving  back  to  the  little  child,  and  it  was  the  day's  joy 
to  him  to  see  this  little  one  come  out  in  front  of  the  cabin  door  and  wave  to 
him,  while  he  answered  back. 

One  day  the  train  was  belated  and  it  came  on  to  the  dusk  of  the  evening. 
As  the  engineer  stood  at  his  post  he  saw  by  the  headlight  that  little  girl  on 
the  track,  wondering  why  the  train  did  not  come,  looking  for  the  train,  know- 
ing nothing  of  its  peril.  A  great  horror  seized  upon  the  engineer.  He 
reversed   the   engine.       He    gave    it  in  charge    of    the   other  man  on  board,  and 


the  last  journey. — From  the  Painting  by  Edwin  L.    Weeks. 

then  he  climbed  over  the  engine  and  he  came  down  on  the  cow-catcher.  He 
said,  though  he  had  reversed  the  engine,  it  seemed  as  though  it  were  going  at 
lightning  speed,  faster  and  faster,  though  it  was  really  slowing  up,  and  with 
almost  supernatural  clutch  he  caught  that  child  by  the  hair  and  lifted  it  up, 
and  when  the  train  stopped  and  the  passengers  gathered  around  to  see  what 
was  the  matter,  there  the  old  engineer  lay,  fainted  dead  away,  the  little  child 
alive  and  in  his  swarthy  arms. 

"Oh!"  you  say,  "that  was  well  done."     But  I  want  you  to  exercise  some 
kindness  and  some  appreciation  toward  those  in  the  community  who  are  snatch- 


3 

> 


r 


5" 


16 


(241) 


242 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


ing  the  little  ones  from  under  the  wheels  of  temptation  and  sin — snatching 
them  from  under  thundering  rail-trains  of  eternal  disaster,  bringing  them  up 
into  respectability  in  this  world  and  into  glory  for  the  world  to  come. 

THE    ROYAL    FAMILY. 

God  has  a  royal  family  in  the  world.  Now,  ,if  I  should  ask :  "  Who  are 
the  royal  families  of  history  ?"  you  would  say  :  House  of  Hapsburg,  house 
of  Stuarts,  house  of  Bourbons."  They  lived  in  palaces  and  had  great  equip- 
ages. But  who  is  the  Lord's  royal  family  ?  Some  of  them  may  serve  you 
in  the  household,  some  of  them  are  in  the  unlighted  garrets,  some  of  them 
walk  down  the  street,  on  their  arm  a  basket  of  broken  food;  some  of  them 
are  in  the  almshouse,  despised  and  rejected  of  men;  yet  in  the  last  great  day 
while  it  will  be  found  that  some  of  us  who  fared  sumptuously  every  day  are 
hurled  back  into  discomfiture,  there  are  the  lame  that  will  take  the  prey. 

Years  ago,  on  a  boat  on  the  North  River,  the  pilot  gave  a  very  sharp 
ring  to  the  bell  for  the  boat  to  slow  up.  The  engineer  attended  to  the 
machinery,  and  then  he  came  up,  with  some  alarm,  on  deck  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  He  saw  it  was  a  moonlight  night  and  there  were  obstacles  in 
the  way.  He  went  to  the  pilot  and  said :  "  Why  did  you  ring  the  bell  in 
that   way?     Why    do  you  want   to  stop,  there's  nothing  the  matter?" 

And  the  pilot  said  to  him :  "  There  is  a  mist  gathering  on  the  river ; 
don't  you  see  that?  And  there  is  night  gathering  darker  and  darker,  and  I 
can't  see  the  way." 

Then  the  engineer,  looking  around  and  seeing  it  was  a  bright  moonlight, 
looked  into  the  face  of  the  pilot  and  saw  that  he  was  dying,  and  then  that  he 
was  dead.  God  grant  that  when  our  last  moment  comes  we  may  be  found  at 
our  post  doing  our  whole  duty,  and  when  the  mists  of  the  river  of  death 
gather  in  our  eyelids  may  the  good  Pilot  take  the  wheel  from  our  hands  and 
guide  us  into  the  calm  harbor  of  eternal  rest ! 

Drop  the  anchor,   furl   the  sail, 
I  am  safe  within  the  veil. 


Otunfcnmess. 


THE  DEEP    DAMNATION    THAT   CURSES    AND    IMPOVER- 
ISHES  MILLIONS — THE   SLAVERY   OF  THE   POOR. 

(j  HE  only  argument  that  can  be  made  against  the  Satur- 
day afternoon  closing  is  that  this  weekly  vacation 
may  be  turned  into  wassail.  Better  have  no  Satur- 
day afternoon  free,  from  now  until  the  day  of  your 
death,  if  the  liquor  saloon  adds  you  to  its  disciple- 
ship.  The  rum  business  is  pouring  its  vitriolic  and 
damnable  liquids  down  the  throats  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  laborers,  and  while  the  ordinary  strikes  are 
ruinous  both  *o  employers  and  employes,  I  proclaim  a 
strike  universal  against  strong  drink,  which,  if  kept  up,  will 
be  the  relief  of  the  working-classes  and  the  salvation  of  the 
nation.  I  will  undertake  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  healthy 
laborer  in  the  United  States  who  within  the  next  ten  years,  if 
he  will  refuse  all  intoxicating  beverage  and  be  saving,  may 
not  become  a  capitalist  on  a  small  scale.  Our  country  in  a 
year  spends  $1,500,000,000  for  rum.  Of  course,  the  work- 
ing-classes do  a  great  deal  of  this  expenditure.  Careful  sta- 
tistics show  that  the  wage-earning  classes  of  Great  Britain 
expend  in  liquor  ^100,000,000  or  $500,000,000  a  year.  Sit 
down  now  and  calculate,  O  workingman !  how  much  you 
have  expended  in  these  directions.  Add  it  all  up.  Add  up  what  your 
neighbors  have  expended,  and  realize  that  instead  of  answering  the  beck  of 
other  people  you  might  have  been  your  own  capitalist.  When  you  deplete  a 
working-man's  physical  energy  you  deplete  his  capital. 

The  stimulated  workman  gives  out  before  the  unstimulated  workman.  My 
father  said :  "I  became  a  temperance  man  in  early  life,  because  I  noticed  in 
the  harvest-field  that,  though  I  was  physically  weaker  than  other  men,  I 
could  hold  out  longer  than  they.  They  took  stimulants,  I  took  none.  A 
brickmaker  in  Bngland  gives  his  experience  in  regard  to  this  matter  among 
men  in  his  employ.  He  says,  after  investigation :  "  The  beer-drinker,  who 
made  the  fewest  bricks,  made  659,000 ;  the  abstainer,  who  made  the  fewest 
bricks,  746,000.  The  difference,  in  behalf  of  the  abstainer  over  the  indulger, 
87,000."  There  came  a  very  exhausting  time  in  the  British  Parliament.  The 
session  was  prolonged  until  nearly  all  the  members  got  sick  or  worn  out.  Out 
of  652    members    only    two   went   through    undamaged ;     they   were    teetotalers. 

(243/ 


(244) 


jolly  companions.—  From  the  Painting  by  Ed.  Grutzner. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


245 


Better  be  like  Daniel,  who  refused  the  king's  wine  because,  though  a 
young  man,  he  was  wise  enough  to  know  that  intoxicants,  or  stimulants, 
if  you  prefer,  weaken  both  mind 
and  body,  and  are  always  hurtful 
to  tba  brain  and  damnation  to 
the    soul. 

When  an  army  goes  out  to 
the  battle  the  soldier  who  has 
water  or  coffee  in  his  canteen 
marches  easier  and  fights  bet- 
ter than  the  soldier  who  has 
whiskey  in  his  canteen.  Rum 
helps  a  man  to  fight  when  he 
has  only  one  contestant,  and 
that  at  the  street-corner.  But 
when  he  goes  forth  to  maintain 
some  great  battle  for  God  and 
his  country,  he  wants  no  rum 
about  him.  When  the  Rus- 
sians go  to  war  a  corporal 
passes  along  the  line  and  smells 
the  breath  of  every  soldier.  If 
there  be  in  his  breath  a  taint 
of  intoxicating  liquor,  the  man 
is  sent  back  to  the  barracks. 
Why?  He  cannot  endure  fa- 
tigue. All  our  young  men  know 
this.  When  they  are  preparing 
for  a  regatta,  or  for  a  ball  club, 
or  for  an  athletic  wrestling,  they 
abstain.  Our  working  people 
will  be  wiser  after  a  while,  and  the  money  they  fling  away  on  hurtful  indul- 
gences they  will  put  into  co-operative  associations,  and  so  become  capitalists. 
Have   Saturday  afternoons  free,  but  by  all  means  have  them  sober. 


DANIEL    REFUSING   THE    KING'S   WINE. 


(general  Josijua. 


THE   CAPTURE   OF  AI,   AND   THE  GREAT   BATTLES   WHICH   ARE  FOUGHT  FOR  GLORY 

AND   FOR   LIFE. 

iNE  Sabbath  evening,  with  my  family  around  me,  we 
were  talking  over  the  scenes  described  in  the  eighth 
chapter  of  Joshua,  of  the  manner  in  which  the  great 
city  of  Ai  was  captured.  There  is  the  old  city,  shorter 
by  name  than  any  other  city  in  the  ages,  spelled  with 
two  letters — A,  I — Ai.  Joshua  and  his  men  wanted  to 
^Mpi||g|g|Rgnfc^  take  it.  How  to  do  it  is  the  question.  On  a  former 
A^]l])G>^        ^Vi\^i^   occasion,    in    a  straightforward,   face-to-face    fight,    they 

had  been  defeated  ;  but  now  they  are  going  to  take  it 
by  ambuscade.  General  Joshua  has  two  divisions  in  his  army 
— the  one  division  the  battle-worn  commander  will  lead  himself, 
the  other  division  he  sends  off  to  encamp  in  an  ambush  on  the 
west  side  of  the  city  of  Ai.  No  torches,  no  lanterns,  no  sound 
of  heavy  battalions,  but  thirty  thousand  swarthy  warriors  moving 
in  silence,  speaking  only  in  a  whisper ;  no  clicking  of  swords 
against  shields,  lest  the  watchman  of  Ai  discover  it  and  the 
stratagem  be  a  failure.  If  a  roistering  soldier  in  the  Israel- 
itish  army  forgets  himself,  all  along  the  line  the  word  is  "Hush!" 
Joshua  takes  the  other  division,  the  one  with  which  he  is  to 
march,  and  puts  it  on  the  north  side  of  the  city  of  Ai,  and  then  spends  the 
night  in  reconnoitering  in  the  valley.  There  he  is,  thinking  over  the  fortunes 
of  the  coming  day,  with  something  of  the  feeling  of  Wellington  the  night 
before  Waterloo,  or  of  Meade  and  Lee  the  night  before  Gettysburg.  There  he 
stands  in  the  night,  and  says  to  himself:  "Yonder  is  the  division  in  ambush 
on  the  west  side  of  Ai.  Here  is  the  division  I  have  under  my  especial  com- 
mand on  the  north  side  of  Ai.  There  is  the  old  city  slumbering  in  its 
sin.  To-morrow  will  be  the  battle.  Look  !  the  morning  already  begins  to  tip 
the  hills." 

The  military  officers  of  Ai  look  out  in  the  morning  very  early,  and,  while 
they  do  not  see  the  division  in  ambush,  they  behold  the  other  division  of 
Joshua,  and  the  cry,  "  To  arms !  To  arms !"  rings  through  all  the  streets  of 
the  old  town,  and  every  sword,  whether  hacked  and  bent  or  newly  welded,  is 
brought  out,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Ai  pour  through  the  gates, 
«in  infuriated  torrent,  and  their  cry  is  :  "  Come — we'll  make  quick  work  with 
Joshua  and  his  troops !"     No  sooner  had  these  people  of  Ai  come  out  against 

•      (246) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


247 


the  troops  of  Joshua  than  Joshua  gave  such  a  command  as  he  seldom  gave : 
"  Fall  back  !"  Why,  they,  could  not  believe  their  own  ears.  Is  Joshua's  cour- 
age failing  him  ? 

"  ABOUT   FACE — CHARGE." 

The  retreat  is  beaten  and  the  Iraelites  are  flying,  throwing  blankets  and 
canteens  on  every  side  under  this  worse  than  Bull  Run  defeat.  And  you 
ought  to  hear  the  soldiers  of  Ai  cheer,  and  cheer,  and  cheer.  But  they 
huzza  too  soon.  The  men  lying  in  ambush  are  straining  their  vision  to  get 
some  signal  from 
Joshua  that  they  may 
know  what  time  to 
drop  upon  the  city. 
Joshua  takes  his  bur- 
nished spear,  glittering 
in  the  sun  like  a  shaft 
of  doom,  and  points  it 
toward  the  city,  and 
when  the  men  up  yon- 
der in  the  ambush  see 
it,  with  hawk-like 
swoop  they  drop  upon 
Ai,  and  without  stroke 
of  sword  or  stab  of 
spear,  take  the  city 
and  put  it  to  the  torch. 
So  much  for  the  divi- 
sion that  was  in  am- 
bush. How  about  the 
division  under  Joshua's 
command?  No  sooner 
does  Joshua  stop  in 
the  fight  than  all  his 
men  stop  with  him, 
and  as  he  wheels  they 
wheel,  for  in  a  voice  of  thunder  he  cried:  "Halt!"  One  strong  arm  driving 
back  a  torrent  of  flying  troops.  And  then,  as  he  points  his  spear  through 
the  golden  light  toward  that  fatal  city,  his  troops  know  that  they  are  to  start 
for  it.  What  a  scene  it  was  when  the  division  in  ambush,  which  had  taken 
the  city,  marched  down  against  the  men  of  Ai  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
troops  under  Joshua  doubled  up  their  enemies  from  the  other  side,  and  the 
men  of  Ai  were  caught  between  these  two  hurricanes  of  Israelitish  courage, 
thrust  before  and  behind,  stabbed  in  breast  and  back,  ground  between  the 
upper  and  nether  millstones  of  God's  indignation.  Woe  to  the  city  of  Ail 
Cheer  for  the  triumphs  of  Israel ! 


IN  THE   BRAVE  DAYS   OF  OLD. 


(243) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  249 

But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  victorious  retreat.  Joshua's  falling  back  was 
the  first  chapter  in  his  successful  besiegement.  And  there  are  times  in  your 
life  when  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  run.  You  were  once  the  victim  of 
strong  drink.  The  demijohn  and  the  decanter  were  your  fierce  foes.  They 
came  down  upon  you  with  greater  fury  than  the  men  of  Ai  upon  the  men  of 
Joshua.  Your  only  safety  is  to  get  away  from  them.  Your  dissipating  compan- 
ions will  come  around  for  your  overthrow.  Run  for  your  life !  Fall  back  !  Fall 
back  from  the  drinking  saloon.  Fall  back  from  the  wine  party.  Your  flight  is 
your  advance !  Your  retreat  is  your  victory.  There  is  a  saloon  down  on  the 
next  street  that  has  been  the  ruin  of  your  soul.  Then,  why  do  you  go  along 
that  street  ?  Why  do  you  not  pass  through  some  other  street  rather  than  by  the 
place  of  your  calamity  ?  A  spoonful  of  brandy,  taken  for  medicinal  purposes  by 
a  man  who  twenty  years  before  had  been  reformed  from  drunkenness,  hurled  into 
inebriety  and  the  grave  one  of  the  best  friends  I  ever  had.  Your  retreat  is  your 
victory.  Here  is  a  converted  infidel.  He  is  so  strong  now  in  his  faith  in  the 
gospel  he  says  he  can  read  anything.  What  are  you  reading  ?  Bolingbroke  ? 
Andrew  Jackson  Davis'  tracts  ?  Tyndall's  Glasgow  University  address  ?  Drop 
them  and  run.  You  will  be  an  infidel  before  you  die  unless  you  quit  that. 
These  men  of  Ai  will  be  too  much  for  you.  Turn  your  back  on  the  rank  and 
file  of  unbelief.  Fly  before  they  cut  you  with  their  swords  and  transfix  you 
with  their  javelins. 

There  are  people  who  have  been  well-nigh  ruined  because  they  risked  a 
foolhardy  expedition  in  the  presence  of  mighty  and  overwhelming  temptations, 
and  the  men  of  Ai  made  a  morning  meal  of  them.  So  also  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  victorious  retreat  in  the  religious  world.  Thousand  of  times  the  king- 
dom of  Christ  has  seemed  to  fall  back.  When  the  blood  of  the  Scotch  Cove- 
nanters gave  a  deeper  dye  to  the  heather  of  the  Highlands;  when  the  Vaudois 
of  France  chose  extermination  rather  than  make  an  unchristian  surrender; 
when  on  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  mounted  assassins  rode  through  the  streets  of 
Paris,  crying:  "Kill!  Blood-letting  is  good  in  August!  Kill!  Death  to  the 
Huguenots !  Kill !"  when  Lady  Jane  Grey's  head  rolled  from  the  executioner's 
block ;  when  Calvin  was  imprisoned  in  the  castle ;  when  John  Knox  died  for  the 
truth;  when  John  Bunyan  lay  rotting  in  Bedford  jail,  saying  :  "If  God  will 
help  me,  and  my  physical  life  continues,  I  will  stay  here  until  the  moss  grows 
on  my  eyebrows  rather  than  give  up  my  faith."  The  days  of  retreat  for  the 
Church  were  days  of  victory. 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers  fell  back  from  the  other  side  of  the  sea  to  Plymouth 
Rock,  but  .now  are  marshalling  a  continent  for  the  Christianization  of  the 
world.  The  Church  of  Christ  falling  back  from  Piedmont,  falling  back  f.0111 
Rue  St.  Jacques,  falling  back  from  St.  Denis,  falling  back  from  Wurtemburg 
castles,  falling  back  from  the  Brussels  market  place,  yet  all  the  time  triumph- 
ing. Notwithstanding  all  the  shocking  reverses  which  the  Church  of  Christ 
suffers,  what  do  we  see  to  day  ?    Three  thousand    missionaries  of  the  cross  on 


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(250) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  251 

heathen  ground ;  sixty  thousand  ministers  of  Jesur  Christ  in  this  land ;  at  least 
two  hundred  millions  of  Christians  on  the  earth.  All  nations  to-day  kindling  in 
a  blaze  of  revival.  Falling  back,  yet  advancing  until  the  old  Wesleyan  hymn 
will  prove  true : 

The  Lion  of  Judah  shall  break  the  chain, 
And  give  us  the  victory  again  and  again ! 

But  there  is  a  more  marked  illustration  of  victorious  retreat  in  the  life  of 
our  Joshua,  the  Jesus  of  the  ages.  First  falling  back  from  an  appalling  height 
to  au  appalling  depth,  falling  from  celestial  hills  to  terrestrial  valleys,  from 
throne  to  manger,  yet  that  did  not  seem  to  suffice  Him  as  a  retreat.  Falling 
back  still  further  from  Bethlehem  to  Nazareth,  from  Nazareth  to  Jerusalem, 
back  from  Jerusalem  to  Golgotha,  back  from  Golgotha  to  the  mausoleum  in  the 
rock,  back  down  over  the  precipices  of  perdition  until  He  walked  amid  the 
caverns  of  the  eternal  captives,  and  drank  of  the  wine  of  the  wrath  of 
Almighty  God  amid  the  Ahabs  and  the  Jezebels  and  the  Belshazzars.  O  men 
of  the  pulpit  and  men  of  the  pew,  Christ's  descent  from  heaven  to  earth  does 
not  measure  half  the  distance.  It  was  from  glory  to  perdition.  He  descended 
iuto  hell.  All  the  records  of  earthly  retreat  are  as  nothing  compared  with  this 
falling  back.  Santa  Anna,  with  the  fragments  of  the  army,  flying  over  the 
plateaux  of  Mexico,  and  Napoleon  and  his  army  retreating  from  Moscow  into 
the  awful  snows  of  Russia,  are  not  worthy  to  be  mentioned  with  this  retreat> 
when  all  the  powers  of  darkness  seem  to  be  pursuing  Christ  as  He  fell  back, 
until  the  body  of  Him  who  came  to  do  such  wonderful  things  lay  pulseless 
and  stripped.  Methinks  that  the  city  of  Ai  was  not  so  emptied  of  its  inhabitants 
when  they  went  to  pursue  Joshua  as  perdition  was  emptied  of  devils  when  they 
started  for  the  pursuit  of  Christ,  and  He  fell  back  and  back,  down  lower,  down 
lower,  chasm  below  chasm,  pit  below  pit,  until  He  seemed  to  strike  the  bottom 
of  objurgation  and  scorn  and  torture.  Oh,  the  long,  loud,  jubilant  shout  of  hell 
at  the  defeat  of  the   Lord  God  Almighty ! 

But  let  not  the  powers  of  darkuess  rejoice  quite  so  soon.  Do  you  hear 
that  disturbance  in  the  tomb  of  Arimathea  ?  I  hear  the  sheet  rending !  What 
means  that  stone  hurled  down  the  side  of  the  hill  ?  Push  Him  back ;  the 
dead  must  not  stalk  in  this  open  sunlight.  Oh,  it  is  our  Joshua.  Let  Him 
come  out.  He  comes  forth  and  starts  for  the  city.  He  takes  the  spear  of  the 
Roman  guard  and  points  that  way.  Church  militant  marches  up  on  one  side 
and  the  Church  triumphant  down  on  the  other  side.  And  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness being  caught  between  these  ranks  of  celestial  and  terrestrial  valor, 
nothing  is  left  of  them  save  just  enough  to  illustrate  the  direful  overthrow  of 
hell  and  our  Joshua's  eternal  victory.  On  His  head  be  all  the  crowns.  In 
His  hand  be  all  the  sceptres.  At  His  feet  be  all  the  human  hearts;  and 
here,  Lord,  is  one  of  them. 


2S2 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


THE  TRIUMPH   OF  THE   WICKED. 


The   triumph   of  the  wicked    is    short, 
panic  ?     There  is  nothing  so  uncontrollable. 


Did  you  ever  see  an  army  in  a 
If  you  had  stood  at  Long  Bridge, 
Washington,  during  the  opening  of  our  Civil  War,  you  would  know  what  it  is 
to  see  an  army  run.  And  when  those  men  of  Ai  looked  out  and  saw  those 
men  of  Joshua  in  a  stampede,  they  expected  easy  work.  They  would  scatter 
them  as  the  equinox  the  leaves.  Oh,  the  gleeful  and  jubilant  descent  of  the 
men  of  Ai  upon  the  men  of  Joshua !     But  their  exhilaration  was  brief,  for  the 

tide  of  battle  turned  and  these  quondam 
conquerors  left  their  miserable  carcasses 
in  the  wilderness  of  Bethaven.  So  it 
always  is.  The  triumph  of  the  wicked 
is  short.  You  make  twenty  thousand 
dollars  at  the  gaming  table.  Do  you 
expect  to  keep  it?  You  will  die  in  the 
poor-house.  You  make  a  fortune  by 
iniquitous  traffic.  Do  you  expect  to  keep 
it?  Your  money  will  scatter,  or  it  will 
stay  long  enough  to  curse  your  children 
after  you  are  dead.  Call  over  the  roll 
of  bad  men  who  prospered  and  see  how 
short  was  their  prosperity.  For  a  while, 
like  the  men  of  Ai,  they  went  from  con- 
quest to  conquest,  but  after  a  while  dis- 
aster rolled  back  upon  them  and  they 
were  divided  into  three  parts :  Misfor- 
tune took  their  property,  and  the  grave 
took  their  body  and  the  lost  world  took 
their  soul.  I  am  always  interested  in 
the  building  of  theatres  and  the  build- 
ing of  dissipating  saloons.  I  like  to  have 
them  built  of  the  best  granite  and  have 
the  rooms  made  large  and  to  have  the 
pillars  made  very  firm.  God  is  going  to  conquer  them,  and  they  will  be  turned 
into  asylums  and  art  galleries  and  churches.  The  stores  in  which  fraudulent 
men  do  business,  the  splendid  banking  institutions  where  the  president  and 
cashier  put  all  their  property  in  their  wives'  hands  and  then  fail  for  $200,000 — 
all  these  institutions  are  to  become  the  places  where  honest  Christian  men  do 
business.  Where  are  William  Tweed  and  his  associates  ?  Where  are  Ketcham 
and  Swartwout,  absconding  swindlers  ?  Where  is  James  Fisk,  the  libertine  ? 
Where  is  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  assassin,  and  all  the  other  misdemeanants ! 
The  wicked  do  not  live  out  half  their  days.     Disembogue,  O  world  of  darkness ! 


SCOURGING  OF  JESUS. 


(253) 


254  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

Come  up  Hildebrand,  and  Henry  II.,  and  Robert  Robespierre,  and  with  blis- 
tering and  blaspheming  and  ashen  lips  hiss  out :  "  The  triumph  of  the  wicked 
is  short."  Alas  for  the  men  of  Ai  when  Joshua  stretches  out  his  spear 
toward  the  city ! 

THE     IMPORTANCE    OF    TAKING     GOOD     AIM. 

In  the  stratagem  by  which  Ai  was  captured  we  have  an  illustration  of  the 
importance  of  taking  good  aim — that  is,  of  thorough  preparation.  There  is 
Joshua,  but  how  are  those  people  in  ambush  up  yonder  to  know  when  they  are 
to  drop  on  the  city  ?  and  how  are  these  men  around  Joshua  to  know  when  they 
are  to  stop  their  fight  and  advance  ?  There  must  be  some  signal — a  signal  to 
stop  the  one  division  and  to  start  the  other.  Joshua,  with  a  spear  on  which 
were  ordinarily  hung  the  colors  of  battle,  points  toward  the  city.  He  stands 
in  such  a  conspicuous  position,  and  there  is  so  much  of  the  morning  light 
dripping  from  that  spear-tip  that  all  around  the  horizon  can  see.  It  was  much 
as  to  say :  "  There  is  the  city.  Take  it.  Take  it  now.  Roll  down  from  the 
west.  Surge  up  from  the  north.  It  is  ours,  the  city  of  Ai."  God  knows  and 
we  know  that  a  great  deal  of  Christian  attack  amounts  to  nothing,  simply  be- 
cause we  do  not  take  good  aim.  Nobody  knows,  and  we  do  not  know  ourselves, 
which  point  we  want  to  take,  when  we  ought  to  make  up  our  minds  what  God 
will  have  us  to  do,  and  point  our  spear  in  that  direction,  and  then  hurl  our 
body,  mind,  soul,  time,  eternity  at  that  one  target.  Many  are  called  by  Christ, 
as  was  Matthew,  but  few  leave  their  tithe-gathering,  or  their  worldly  engage- 
ments to  follow  Him  who  gave  His  life  for  the  world.  In  our  pulpit  and  pews, 
and  Sunday-schools  and  prayer-meetings,  we  want  to  get  a  reputation  for  say- 
ing pretty  things,  and  so  we  point  our  spear  toward  the  flowers ;  or  we  want  a 
reputation  for  saying  sublime  things,  and  we  point  our  spear  toward  the  stars ; 
or  we  want  to  get  a  reputation  for  historical  knowledge,  and  we  point  our 
spear  toward  the  past ;  or  we  want  to  get  a  reputation  for  liberality,  so  we 
swing  our  spear  all  around ;  and  it  strikes  all  points  of  the  horizon,  and  you 
can  make  out  of  it  whatever  you  please ;  while  there  is  the  old  world,  proud, 
rebellious  and  armed  against  all  righteousness  ;  and  instead  of  running  any 
further  away  from  its  pursuit,  we  ought  to  turn  around,  plant  our  foot  in  the 
strength  of  the  eternal  God,  lift  the  old  cross  and  point  it  in  the  direction  of 
the  world's  conquest  till  the  redeemed  of  earth,  marching  up  from  one  side  and 
the  glorified  of  heaven  marching  down  from  the  other  side,  the  last  battle- 
ment of  sin  is  compelled  to  swing  out  the  streamers  of  Immanuel.  O  Church 
of  God,  take  aim  and  conquer. 

THE   BRAVERY   THAT   CONFRONTS   STEEL   AND   BULLET. 

It  is  comparatively  easy  to  keep  on  a  parade  amid  a  shower  of  bouquets 
aud  handclapping  and  the  whole  street  full  of  huzzas,  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to 
stand  up  in  the  day  of  battle,  the  face  blackened  with  smoke,  the  uniform  cov- 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


255 


ered  with  the  earth  plowed  up  by  whizzing  bullets  and  bursting  shelL,  half 
the  regiment  cut  to  pieces,  and  yet  the  commander  crying :  "  Forward,  march !" 
Then  it  requires  old-fashioned  valor.  My  readers,  the  great  trouble  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God  in  this  day  is  the  cowards.  They  do  splendidly  on  a  parade 
day,  and  at  the  communion,  when  they  have  on  their  best  clothes  of  Christian 
profession ;  but  put  them  out  in  the  great  battle  of  life,  at  the  first  sharp- 
shooting  of  skepticism  they  dodge,  they  fall  back,  they  break  ranks.  We  con- 
front the  enemy,  we  open  the  battle  against  fraud,  and  lo !  we  find  on  our  side 
a  great  many  people  that  do  not  try  to  pay  their  debts.  And  we  open  the  battle 
against  intemperance,  and  we  find  on  our  own  side  a  great  many  people  who 
drink  too  much.  And  we  open  the  battle  against  profanity,  and  we  find  on  our 
own  side  a  great  many  men  who  make  hard  speeches.  And  we  open  the  battle 
upon  infidelity,  and  lo !  we  find  on  our  own  side  a  great  many  men  who  are  not 
quite  sure  about  the  Book  of  Jonah.  And  while  we  ought  to  be  massing  our 
troops  and  bringing  forth  more  than  the  united  courage  of  Austerlitz,  and 
Waterloo,  and  Gettysburg,  we  have  to  be  spending  our  time  hunting  up  ambus- 
cades. There  are  a  great  many  in  the  Lord's  army  who  like  to  go  out  on  a 
campaign  with  satin  slippers  and  holding  umbrellas  over  their  heads  to  keep 
off  the  dew,  and  having  rations  of  canvas-back  ducks  and  lemon  custards.  If 
they  cannot  have  them,  they  want  to  go  home.  They  think  it  unhealthy  among 
so  many  bullets ! 

I  believe  that  the  next  twelve  months  will  be  the  most  stupendous  year 
that  Heaven  ever  saw.  The  nations  are  quaking  now  with  the  coming  of  God. 
It  will  be  a  year  of  successes  for  the  men  of  Joshua,  but  of  doom  for  the  men 
of  Ai.  Year  of  mercies  and  of  judgments.  Year  of  invitation  and  of  warning. 
Year  of  jubilee  and  of  woe.  Which  side  are  you  going  to  be  on? — with  the 
men  of  Ai  or  the  men  of  Joshua  ? 


Constellations  of  tfjr  Bctrrrmrtr. 

THE  SPLENDORS   OF  THE  HEAVENS  COMPARED  WITH 
THE  GLORY  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 

VERY    man    has     a    thousand    roots     and    a    thousand 
branches.      His    roots    reach    down    through   all  the 
earth ;    his  branches  spread  through  all  the  heavens. 
He  speaks  with    voice,  with    eye,  with    hand,    with 
foot.      His    silence  often  is  thunder,  and  his  life  is 
an  anthem  or  a  doxology.      There  is  no  such  thing 
as  negative    influence.      We  are  all   positive  in    the 
place  we  occupy,  making  the  world  better  or  making 
it  worse,  on  the  Lord's  side  or  on  the  devil's,  making 
up  reasons  for  our   blessedness  or  banishment,  and 
we   have  already  done  a    mighty  work  in    peopling 
heaven  or  hell.    I  hear  people  tell  of  what  they  are  going  to  do. 
A  man  who  has  burned  down    a  city    might    as  well   talk    of 
some  evil  that  he  expects  to  do,  or  a  man  who  has  saved  an  em- 
pire might  as  well   talk  of   some  good  that  he  expects  to  do. 
By  the  force  of  your  evil  influence  you  have  already  consumed 
infinite  values,  or  you  have,  by  the  power  of  a  right  influence, 
won  whole  kingdoms  for  God. 

It  would  be  absurd  for  me  by  elaborate  argument  to  prove 
that  the  world  is  off  the  track.  You  might  as  well  stand  at  the  foot  of  an 
embankment,  amid  the  wreck  of  a  capsized  rail-train,  proving  by  elaborate  argu- 
ment that  something  is  out  of  order.  Adam  tumbled  over  the  embankment  sixty 
centuries  ago,  and  the  whole  race,  in  one  long  train,  has  gone  on  t ambling  in 
the  same  direction.  Crash !  crash  !  The  only  question  now  is,  by  what  leverage 
can  the  crushed  thing  be  lifted  ?  By  what  hammer  may  the  fragments  be 
reconstructed  ? 

I  want  to  show  you  how  we  may  turn  many  to  righteousness,  and  what 
will  be  our  future  pay  for  so  doing. 

We  may  turn  them  by  the  charm  of  a  right  example.  A  child,  coming 
from  a  filthy  home,  was  taught  at  school  to  wash  its  face.  It  went  home  so  much 
improved  in  appearance  that  its  mother  washed  her  face.  And  when  the  father 
of  the  household  came  home  and  saw  the  improvement  in  domestic  appearance, 
he  washed  his  face.  The  neighbors  happening  in  saw  the  change,  and  tried  the 
same  experiment    until  all    that    street  was  purified,  and  the  next  street  copied 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


^57 


its  example,  and  the  whole  city  felt  the  result  of  one  schoolboy  washing  his 
face.  That  is  a  fable  by  which  we  set  forth  that  the  best  way  to  get  the  world 
washed  of  its  sins  and  pollution  is  to  have  our  own  heart  and  life  cleansed  and 
purified.  A  man  with  grace  in  his  heart,  and  Christian  cheerfulness  in  his  face, 
and  holy  consistency  in  his  behavior,  is  a  perpetual  sermon ;  and  the  sermon 
differs  from  others  in  that  it  has  but  one  head,  and  the  longer  it  runs  the  better. 
There  are  honest  men  who  walk  down  Wall  street,  making  the  teeth  of  iniquity 
chatter.  There  are  happy  men  who  go  into  a  sick-room,  and,  by  a  look,  help 
the  broken  bone  to  knit,  and  the  excited  nerves  drop  to  calm  beating.  There 
are  pure  men  whose  presence  silences  the  tongue  of  uncleanness.  The  mightiest 
agent  of  good  on  earth  is  a  consistent  Christian.  I  like  the  Bible  folded  between 
lids  of  cloth,  or  calfskin, 
or  morocco,  but  I  like  it  bet- 
ter when,  in  the  shape  of  a 
man,  it  goes  out  into  the 
world — a  Bible  illustrated. 
Courage  is  beautiful  to 
read  about ;  but  rather 
would  I  see  a  man  with  all 
the  world  against  him 
confident  as  though  all 
the  world  were  for  him. 
Patience  is  beautiful  to 
read  about;  but  rather 
would  I  see  a  buffeted 
soul  calmly  waiting  for  the 
time  of  deliverance.  Faith 
is  beautiful  to  read  about ; 
but  rather  would  I  find  a  man  in  the  midnight  walking  straight  on  as  though  he 
saw  everything.  Oh,  how  many  souls  have  been  turned  to  God  by  the  charm  of  a 
bright  example ! 

THE   SWIFT   FEET   OF   PRAYER. 

When,  in  the  Mexican  War,  the  troops  were  wavering,  a  General  rose  in 
his  stirrups  and  dashed  into  the  enemy's  lines,  shouting,  "  Men,  follow !"  They, 
seeing  his  courage  and  disposition,  dashed  on  after  him  and  gained  the  vic- 
tory. What  men  want  to  rally  them  for  God  is  an  example  to  lead  them. 
All  your  commands  to  others  to  advance  amount  to  nothing  so  long  as  yor 
stay  behind.  To  affect  them  aright,  you  need  to  start  for  heaven  yourself, 
looking  back  only  to  give  the  stirring  cry  of  "  Men,  follow !" 

Again,  we  may  turn  many  to  righteousness  by  prayer.  There  is  no  such 
detective  as  prayer,  for  no  one  can  hide  away  from  it.  It  puts  its  hand  on 
the  shoulder  of  a  man  ten  thousand  miles  off.  It  alights  on  a  ship  mid-Atlan- 
tic. The  little  child  cannot  understand  the  law  of  electricity,  or  how  the 
i7 


HUSBANDLY   SYMPATHY. 


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(258) 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  259 

telegraphic  operator,  by  touching  the  instrument  here,  may  dart  a  message 
under  the  sea  to  another  continent ;  nor  can  we,  with-  our  small  intellects, 
understand  how  the  touch  of  a  Christian's  prayer  shall  instantly  strike  a  soul 
on  the  other  side  of  the  earth.  You  take  ship  and  go  to  some  other  country, 
and  get  there  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  You  telegraph  to  New  York, 
and  the  message  gets  here  at  six  o'clock  in  the  same  morning.  In  other 
words,  it  seems  to  arrive  here  five  hours  before  it  started.  Like  that  is  prayer. 
God  says:  "Before  they  call  I  will  hear."  To  overtake  a  loved  one  on  the 
road  you  may  spur  up  a  lathered  steed  until  he  shall  outrace  the  one  that 
brought  the  news  to  Ghent,  but  a  prayer  shall  catch  it  at  one  gallop.  A  boy 
running  away  from  home  may  take  the  midnight  train  from  the  country  vil- 
lage and  reach  the  seaport  in  time  to  gain  the  ship  that  sails  on  the  morrow, 
but  a  mother's  prayer  will  be  on  the  deck  to  meet  him,  and  in  the  hammock 
before  he  swings  into  it,  and  at  the  capstan  before  he  winds  the  rope  around 
it,  and  on  the  sea  against  the  sky,  as  the  vessel  plows  on  toward  it.  There 
is  a  mightiness  in  prayer.  George  Muller  prayed  a  company  of  poor  boys 
together,  and  then  he  prayed  up  an  asylum  in  which  they  might  be  sheltered. 
He  turned  his  face  toward  Edinburgh  and  prayed,  and  there  came  a  thousand 
pounds.  He  turned  his  face  toward  London  and  prayed,  and  there  came  a 
thousand  pounds.  He  turned  his  face  toward  Dublin  and  prayed,  and  there 
came  a  thousand  pounds.  The  breath  of  Elijah's  prayer  blew  all  the  clouds 
off  the  sky,  and  it  was  dry  weather.  The  breath  of  Elijah's  prayer  blew  all 
the  clouds  together,  and  it  was  wet  weather.  Prayer,  in  Daniel's  time,  walked 
the  cave  as  a  lion-tamer.  It  reached  up,  and  took  the  sun  by  its  golden  bit 
and  stopped  it.  We  have  all  yet  to  try  the  full  power  of  prayer.  The  time 
will  come  when  the  American  Church  will  pray  with  its  face  toward  the  West, 
and  all  the  prairies  and  inland  cities  will  surrender  to  God ;  and  will  pray 
with  face  toward  the  sea,  and  all  the  islands  and  ships  will  become  Christian. 
Parents  who  have  wayward  sons  will  get  down  on  their  knees  and  say, 
"  Lord,  send  my  boy  home,"  and  the  boy  in  Canton  shall  get  right  up  from 
the  gaming-table,  and  go  down  to  the  wharf  to  find  out  which  ship  starts  first 
for  America. 

HOW  TO    PRAY. 

Not  one  of  us  yet  knows  how  to  pray.  All  we  have  done  has  only  been 
pottering  and  guessing  and  experimenting.  A  boy  gets  hold  of  his  father's 
saw  and  hammer  and  tries  to  make  something,  but  it  is  a  poor  affair.  The 
father  comes  and  takes  the  same  saw  and  hammer  and  builds  the  house  or 
the  ship.  In  the  childhood  of  our  Christian  faith  we  make  but  poor  work  with 
these  weapons  of  prayer,  but  when  we  come  to  the  stature  of  men  in  Christ 
Jesus,  then,  under  these  implements,  the  temple  of  God  will  rise,  and  the 
world's  redemption  will  be  launched.  God  cares  not  for  the  length  of  our 
prayer,  or  the  number  of  our  prayers,  or  the  beauty  of  our  prayers,  or  the 
place   of  our    prayers;    but  it  is    the    faith    in    them  that    tells — believing   that 


26o 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


prayer  soars  higher  than  the  lark  ever  sang,  plunges  deeper  than  diving-bell 
ever  sank,  darts  quicker  than  lightning  ever  flashed.  Though  we  have  used 
only  the  back  of  this  weapon  instead  of  the  edge,  what  marvels  have  been 
wrought !  If  saved,  we  are  all  the  captives  of  some  earnest  prayer.  Would 
God  that,  in  desire  for  the  rescue  of  souls,  we  might  in  prayer  lay  hold  of 
the  resources  of  the  Lord  Omnipotent. 


THE  VOICE  OF  PRAYER. 


We  may  turn  many  to  righteousness  by  Christian  admonition.  Do  not 
wait  until  you  can  make  a  formal  speech.  Address  the  one  next  to  you.  Just 
one  sentence  may  do  the  work,  just  one  question,  just  one  look.  The  formal 
talk  that  begins  with  a  sigh  and  ends  with  a  canting  snuffle  is  not  what  is 
wanted,  but  the  heart-throb  of  a  man  in  dead  earnest.  There  is  not  a  soul  on 
earth  that  you  may  not  bring  to  God  if  you  rightly  go  at  it.  They  said 
Gibraltar  could  not  be  taken.     It   is    a    rock    1600    feet    high    and    three    miles 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


?6i 


long.  But  the  English  and  Dutch  did  take  it.  Artillery,  and  sappers  and 
miners,  and  fleets  pouring  out  volleys  of  death,  and  thousands  of  men,  reckless 
of  danger,  can  do  anything.  The  stoutest  heart  of  sin,  though  it  be  rock,  and 
surrounded  by  an  ocean  of  transgression,  under  Christian  bombardment,  may 
be  made  to  hoist  the  flag  of  redemption. 

But  is  all  this  admonition,  and  prayer,  and  Christian  work  for  nothing? 
The  Bible  promises  to  all  the  faithful  eternal  lustre.  "  They  that  turn  many 
to  righteousness  shall  shine  as  the  stars  forever." 


"When  the  grave  household  'round  his  hall  repair, 
Warned  by  a  bell,  and  close  the  hours  with  prayer." 

As  stars  the  redeemed  have  a  borrowed  light.  What  makes  Mars,  and 
Venus,  and  Jupiter  so  luminous  ?  When  the  sun  throws  down  his  torch  in 
the  heavens  the  stars  pick  up  the  scattered  brands  and  hold  them  in  proces- 
sion as  the  queen  of  the  night  advances ;  so  all  Christian  workers  standing 
around  the  throne  will  shine  in  the  light  borrowed  from  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 


262  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

ness — Jesus  in  their  faces,  Jesus  in  their  songs,  Jesus  in  their  triumph.  Christ 
left  heaven  once  for  a  tour  of  redemption  on  earth,  yet  the  glorified  ones  knew 
He  would  come  back  again.  But  let  Him  abdicate  His  throne,  and  go  away 
to  stay  forever,  the  music  would  stop,  the  congregation  disperse,  the  temples  of 
God  be  darkened,  the  rivers  of  light  stagnate,  and  every  chariot  would  become 
a  hearse,  and  every  bell  would  toll,  and  there  would  not  be  room  on  the  hill- 
sides to  bury  the  dead  of  the  great  metropolis,  for  there  would  be  pestilence 
in  heaven.  But  Jesus  lives,  and  so  all  the  redeemed  live  with  Him.  He  shall 
recognize  them  as  His  comrades  in  earthly  toil,  and  remember  what  they  did 
for  the  honor  of  His  name  and  for  the  spread  of  His  kingdom.  All  their 
prayers  and  tears  and  work  will  rise  before  Him  as  He  looks  into  their  faces, 
and  He  will  divide  His  kingdom  with  them ;  His  peace,  their  peace ;  His 
holiness,  their  holiness;  His  joy,  their  joy.  The  glory  of  the  central  throne 
reflected  from  the  surrounding  thrones,  the  last  spot  of  sin  struck  from  the 
Christian  orb,  and  the  entire  nature  atremble  and  aflash  with  light,  they  shall 
shine  as  the  stars  forever  and  ever. 

LIKE    THE    STARS. 

Christian  workers  shall  be  like  the  stars  in  the  fact  that  they  have  a 
light  independent  of  each  other.  Look  up  at  the'  night,  and  see  each  world 
show  its  distinct  glory.  It  is  not  like  the  conflagration,  in  which  you  cannot 
tell  where  one  flame  stops  and  another  begins.  Neptune,  Herschel,  and  Mer- 
cury are  as  distinct  as  if  each  one  of  them  were  the  only  star ;  so  our  indi- 
vidualism will  not  be  lost  in  heaven.  A  great  multitude — yet  each  one  as 
observable,  as  distinctly  recognized,  as  greatly  celebrated,  as  if  in  all  the  space, 
from  gate  to  gate,  and  from  hill  to  hill,  he  were  the  only  inhabitant ;  no 
mixing  up — no  mob — no  indiscriminate  rush,  each  Christian  standing  illustri- 
ous— all  the  story  of  earthly  achievement  adhering  to  each  one ;  his  self- 
denials,  and  pains,  and  services,  and  victories  published.  Before  men  went 
out  to  the  last  war  the  orators  told  them  that  they  would  all  be  remembered 
by  their  country,  and  their  names  are  commemorated  in  poetry  and  song ;  but 
go  to  the  graveyard  in  Richmond,  and  you  will  find  there  6000  graves,  over 
each  one  of  which  is  the  inscription,  "  Unknown."  The  world  does  not 
remember  its  heroes,  but  there  wi\l  be  no  unrecognized  Christian  worker  in 
heaven.  Each  one  known  by  all,  grandly  known;  known  by  acclamation;  all 
the  past  story  of  work  for  God  gleaming  in  cheek,  and  brow,  and  foot,  and  palm. 
They  shall  shine  with  distinct  light  as  the  stars,  forever  and  ever. 

Christian  workers  shall  shine  like  the  stars  in  clusters.  In  looking  up, 
you  find  the  worlds  in  family  circles.  Brothers  and  sisters — they  take  hold  of 
each  other's  hands  and  dance  in  groups.  Orion  in  a  group.  The  Pleiades  in 
a  group.  The  solar  system  is  only  a  company  of  children,  with  bright  faces, 
gathered  around  one  great  fire-place.  The  worlds  do  not  straggle  off.  They  go 
in  squadrons  and  fleets,  sailing  through  immensity. 


\ 


THE   ANGELS — LIFE,    DEATH   AND    RESURRECTION. 


(263) 


264  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

So  Christian  workers  in  heaven  will  dwell  in  neighborhoods  and  clusters. 
I  am  sure  that  some  people  I  will  like  in  heaven  a  great  deal  better  than 
others.  Yonder  is-  a  constellation  of  stately  Christians.  They  live  on  earth  by 
rigid  rule.  They  never  laugh.  They  walked  every  hour,  anxious  lest  they 
should  lose  their  dignity.  But  they  loved  God ;  and  yonder  they  shine  in  brilliant 
constellation.  Yet  I  shall  not  long  to  get  into  that  particular  group.  Yonder 
is  a  constellation  of  small-hearted  Christians — asteroids  in  the  eternal  astro- 
nomy. While  some  souls  go  up  from  Christian  battle,  and  blaze  like  Mars, 
these  asteroids  dart  a  feeble  ray  like  Vesta.  Yonder  is  a  constellation  of 
martyrs,  of  apostles,  of  patriarchs.  Our  souls,  as  they  go  up  to  heaveu,  will 
seek  out  the  most  congenial  society.  Yonder  is  a  constellation  almost  merry 
with  the  play  of  light.  On  earth  they  were  full  of  sympathies  and  songs,  and 
tears,  and  raptures,  and  congratulations.  When  they  prayed,  their  words  took 
fire ;  when  they  sang,  the  tune  could  not  hold  them ;  when  they  wept  over  a 
world's  woes,  they  sobbed  as  if  heart-broken ;  when  they  worked  for  Christ, 
they  flamed  with  enthusiasm.  Yonder  they  are — circle  of  light !  Constellation 
of  joy!  Galaxy  of  fire!  Oh,  that  you  and  I,  by  that  grace  which  can  transform 
the  worst  into  the  best,  might  at  last  sail  in  the  wake  of  that  fleet,  and  wheel 
in  that  glorious  group,  as  the  stars,  forever  and  ever. 

FLIGHT   OF  WORLDS. 

Christian  workers  will  shine  like  the  stars  in  swiftness  of  motion.  The 
worlds  do  not  stop  to  shine.  There  are  no  fixed  stars  save  as  to  relative  posi- 
tion. The  star  most  thoroughly  fixed  flies  thousands  of  miles  a  minute.  The 
astronomer,  using  his  telescope  for  an  Alpine  stock,  leaps  from  world-crag  to 
world-crag,  and  finds  no  star  standing  still.  The  chamois  hunter  has  to  fly  to 
catch  his  prey,  but  not  so  swift  is  his  game  as  that  which  the  scientist  (rieo 
to  shoot  through  the  tower  of  observatory.  Like  petrels,  mid-Atlantic,  that 
seem  to  come  from  no  shore,  and  be  bound  to  no  landing-place — flying,  flying — 
so  these  great  flocks  of  worlds  rest  not  as  they  go — wing  and  wing — age  after 
age — forever  and  ever.  The  eagle  hastens  to  its  pre}',  but  we  shall  in  speed 
beat  the  eagles.  You  have  noticed  the  velocity  of  the  swift  horse  under  whose 
feet  the  miles  slip  like  a  smooth  ribbon,  and  as  he  passes  the  four  hoofs  strike 
the  earth  in  such  quick  beat,  your  pulses  take  the  same  vibration.  But  all 
these  things  are  not  swift  in  comparison  with  the  motion  of  which  I  speak. 
The  moon  moves  54,000  miles  in  a  day.  Yonder,  Neptune  flashes  on  11,000 
miles  in  an  hour.  Yonder,  Mercury  goes  109,000  miles  in  an  hour.  So,  like 
the  stars,  the  Christian  worker  shall  shine  in  swiftness  of  motion.  You  hear 
now  of  father,  or  mother,  or  child  sick  1000  miles  away,  and  it  takes  you  two 
days  to  get  to  them.  You  hear  of  some  case  of  suffering  that  demands  your 
immediate  attention,  but  it  takes  you  an  hour  to  get  there.  Oh,  the  joy  when 
you  shall  take  starry  speed,  and  be  equal  to  100,000  miles  an  hour.  Having 
on  earth  got  used  to  Christian  work,  you  wi]).  not  quit  when  death  strikes  you. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


265 


You  will  only  take  on  more  velocity.  There  is  a  dying  child  in  London,  and 
its  spirit  must  be  taken  up  to  God :  you  are  there  in  an  instant  to  do  it. 
There  is  a  young  man  in  New  York  to  be  arrested  from  going  into  that  gate 
of  sin :  you  are  there  in  an  instant  to  arrest  him.  All  space  open  before  you, 
with  nothing  to  hinder  you  in  mission  of  light,  and  love,  and  joy,  you  shall 
shine  in  swiftness  of  motion  as  the  stars,  forever  and  ever. 

Christian  workers,  like  the  stars,  shall  shine  in  magnitude.  The  most 
illiterate  man  knows  that  these  things  in  the  sky,  looking  like  gilt  buttons, 
are  great  masses  of  matter.  To  weigh  them,  one  would  think  that  it  would 
require  scales  with  a  pillar  hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  high,  and  chains 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  long,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  chains  basins  on 


blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart.— From  a  Painting  by  Rubens. 

either  side  hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  wide,  and  that  then  Omnipotence 
alone  could  put  the  mountains  into  the  scales  and  the  hills  into  the  balance. 
But  puny  man  has  been  equal  to  the  undertaking,  and  has  set  a  little  balance 
on  his  geometry,  and  weighed  world  against  world.  Yes,  he  has  pulled  out  his 
measuring  line  and  announced  that  Herschel  is  36,000  miles  in  diameter,- 
Saturn  79,000  miles  in  diameter,  and  Jupiter  89,000  miles  in  diameter,  and  that 
the  smallest  pearl  on  the  beach  of  heaven  is  immense  beyond  all  imagination. 
So    all    they  who    have  toiled  for  Christ  on  earth  shall  rise  up  to  a  magnitude 


NIOBE. 

Niobe  was  the  wife  of  Arophion,  King  of  Thebes,  whose  pride  in  her  children  provoked  Diana  and  Apollo  to  slay  them.     HeY 
grief  was  so  ereat  that  poets  represent  her  as  being  turned  into  stone. 
(266) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  267 

of  privilege,  and  a  magnitude  of  strength,  and  a  magnitude  of  holiness,  and  a 
magnitude  of  joy  ;  and  the  weakest  saint  in  glory  become  greater  than  all  we 
can  now  imagine  of  an  archangel. 

A  GLORY  THAT  NEVER  FADES. 

It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be.  Wisdom  that  shall  know  every- 
thing; wealth  that  shall  possess  everything;  strength  that  shall  do  everything; 
glory  that  shall  circumscribe  everything!  We  shall  not  be  like  a  taper  set  in 
a  sick  man's  window,  or  a  bundle  of  sticks  kindled  on  the  beach  to  warm  a 
shivering  crew  ;  but  you  must  take  the  diameter  and  the  circumference  of  the 
world  if  you  would  get  any  idea  of  the  greatness  of  our  estate  when  we  shall 
shine  as  the  stars,  forever  and  ever. 

Lastly,  and  coming  to  this  point  my  mind  almost  breaks  down  under  the 
contemplation — like  the  stars,  all  Christian  workers  shall  shine  in  duration. 
The  same  stars  that  look  down  upon  us  looked  down  upon  the  Chaldean  shep- 
herds. The  meteor  that  I  saw  flashing  across  the  sky  the  other  night,  I 
wonder  if  it  was  not  the  same  one  that  pointed  down  to  where  Jesus  lay  in  the 
manger,  and  if,  having  pointed  out  His  birthplace,  it  has  ever  since  been 
wandering  through  the  heavens,  watching  to  see  how  the  world  would  treat 
Him.  When  Adam  awoke  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  he-  saw  coin- 
ing out  through  the  dusk  of  the  evening  the  same  worlds  that  greet  us  now. 

The  star  at  which  the  mariner  looks  to-night  was  the  light  by  which  the 
ships  of  Tarshish  were  guided  across  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Venetian  flotilla 
found  its  way  into  Lepanto.  Their  armor  Is  as  bright  to-night  as  when,  in 
ancient  battle,  the  stars  in  their  courses  fought  against  Sisera.  To  the  ancients 
the  stars  were  symbols  of  eternity.  But  here  the  figure  entirely  breaks 
down — not  in  defeat,  but  in  the  majesties  of  the  judgment.  The  stars  shall  not 
shine  forever.  The  Bible  says  they  shall  fall  like  autumnal  leaves.  It  is  almost 
impossible  for  a  man  to  take  in  a  courser  going  a  mile  in  three  minutes ;  but 
God  shall  take  in  the  worlds,  flying  a  hundred  thousand  miles  an  hour,  by 
one  pull  of  his  little  finger.  As,  when  the  factory  band  slips  at  night-fall  from 
the  main  wheel,  all  the  smaller  wheels  slacken  their  speed,  and  with  slower  and 
slower  motion  they  turn  until  they  come  to  a  full  stop,  so  this  great  machinery 
of  the  universe,  wheel  within  wheel,  making  revolution  of  appalling  speed,  shall 
by  the  touch  of  God's  hand  slip  the  band  of  present  law  and  slacken  and  stop. 
That  is  what  will  be  the  matter  with  the  mountains.  The  chariots  in  which 
they  ride  shall  halt  so  suddenly  that  the  kings  shall  be  thrown  out.  Star  after 
star  shall  be  carried  out  to  burial  amid  funeral  torches  and  burning  worlds. 
But  the  Christian  workers  shall  never  quit  their  thrones — they  shall  reign  for- 
ever and  ever.  If,  by  some  invasion  from  hell,  the  attempt  were  made  to  carry 
them  off  into  captivity  from  heaven,  the  redeemed,  on  white  horses  of  victory, 
would  ride  down  the  foe,  and  all  the  steep  of  the  sky  would  resound  with  the 
crash  of  the  overwhelmed  cohorts  tumbled  headlong  out  of  heaven. 


good 


$oto  to  prolong  Hife. 

PRACTICAL   HINTS   AND   EXAMPLES   BY   WHICH   OUR   DAYS 
MAY   BE   BOTH   LENGTHENED   AND   BLESSED. 

the  mistake  of  its  friends  religion  has  been  chiefly 
associated  with  sick  beds  and  graveyards.  The 
whole  subject  to  many  people  is  odorous  with 
chlorine  and  carbolic  acid.  There  are  people  who 
cannot  pronounce  the  word  religion  without  hear- 
ing in  it  the  clipping  chisel  of  the  tombstone  cutter. 
It  is  high  time  that  this  thing  were  changed,  and 
that  religion,  instead  of  being  represented  as  a 
hearse  to  carry  out  the  dead,  should  be  represented 
as  a  chariot  in  which  the  living  are  to  triumph. 

Religion,  so  far  from  subtracting  from  one's 
a  glorious  addition.  It  is  sanative,  curative,  hygienic, 
for  the  eyes,  good  for  the  cars,  good  for  the  spleen, 
good  for  the  digestion,  good  for  the  nerves,  good  for  the 
muscles.  When  David  prayed  that  religion  might  be  domi- 
nant, he  did  not  speak  of  it  as  a  mild  sickness,  or  an  emacia- 
tion, or  an  attack  of  moral  and  spiritual  cramp ;  he  spoke  of 
it  as  "the  saving  health  of  all  nations";  while  God  promises 
longevity  to  the  pious,  saying:  "With  long  life  will  I  satisfy 
him." 

The  fact  is  that  men  and  women  die  too  soon.  It  is  high 
time  that  religion  joined  the  hand  of  medical  science  in 
attempting  to  improve  human  longevity.  Adam  lived  930  years.  Methuselah 
lived  969  years.  As  late  in  the  history  of  the  world  as  Vespasian  there  were 
at  one  time  in  his  empire  forty-five  people  135  years  old.  So  far  down  as  the 
sixteenth  century,  Peter  Zartan  died  at  185  years  of  age.  I  do  not  say  that 
religion  will  ever  take  the  race  back  to  antediluvian  longevity,  but  I  do  say 
the  length  of  human  life  will  be  greatly  improved. 

MERE   DWARFS. 

It  is  said  in  Isaiah :  "  The  child  shall  die  a  hundred  years  old."  Now,  if 
according  to  Scripture  the  child  is  to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  may  not  the 
men  and  women  reach  to  300,  and  400  and  500  ?  The  fact  is  that  we  are 
mere  dwarfs  and  skeletons  compared  with  some  of  the  generations   that   are   to 

(268) 


H 

i 

SI 


(269) 


a7o  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

come.  Take  the  African  race.  They  have  been  under  bondage  for  centuries. 
Give  them  a  chance  and  they  develop  a  Frederick  Douglass  or  a  Toussaint 
L/Overture.  And  if  the  white  race  shall  be  brought  from  under  the  serfdom 
of  sin,  what  shall  be  the  body  ?  What  shall  be  the  soul  ?  Religion  has  only 
just  touched  our  world.  Give  it  fall  power  for  a  few  centuries,  and  who  can 
tell  what  will  be  the  strength  of  man  and  the  beauty  of  women,  and  the 
longevity  of  all. 

My  design  is  to  show  that  practical  religion  is  the  friend  of  long  life.  ] 
prove  it,  first,  from  the  fact  that  it  makes  the  care  of  our  health  a  positive 
Christian  duty.  Whether  we  shall  keep  early  or  late  hours,  whether  we  shall 
take  food  digestible  or  indigestible,  whether  there  shall  be  thorough  or  incom- 
plete mastication,  are  questions  very  often  deferred  to  the  realm  of  whimsicality; 
but  the  Christian  man  lifts  this  whole  problem  of  health  into  the  accountable 
and  the  divine.  He  says :  "  God  has*  given  me  this  body,  and  he  has  called  it 
the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  to  deface  its  altars  or  mar  it  walls  or 
crumble  its  pillars  is  a  God-defying  sacrilege."  He  sees  God's  calligraphy  in 
every  page — anatomical  and  physiological.  He  says :  "  God  has  given  me  a 
wonderful  body  for  noble  purposes." 

That  arm  with  thirty-two  curious  bones  wielded  by  forty-six  curious  mus- 
cles, and  all  under  the  brain's  telegraphy;  350  pounds  of  blood  rushing  through 
the  heart  every  hour,  the  heart  in  twenty-four  hours  beating  100,000  times, 
during  the  twenty-four  hours  overcoming  resistances  amounting  to  224,000,000 
pounds  of  weight,  during  the  same  time  the  lungs  taking  in  fifty-seven  hogs- 
heads of  air,  and  all  this  mechanism  not  more  mighty  than  delicate  and 
easily  disturbed  and  demolished. 

The  Christian  man  says  to  himself:  "If  I  hurt  my  nerves,  if  I  hurt  my 
brain,  if  I  hurt  any  of  my  physical  faculties,  I  insult  God  and  call  for  dire 
retribution."  Why  did  God  tell  the  Levites  not  to  offer  to  Him  in  sacrifice 
animals  imperfect  and  diseased  ?  He  meant  to  tell  us  in  all  the  ages  that  we 
are  to  offer  to  God  our  very  best  physical  condition,  and  a  man  who,  through 
irregular  or  gluttonous  eating,  ruins  his  health,  is  not  offering  to  God  such  a 
sacrifice.  Why  did  Paul  write  for  his  cloak  at  Troas  ?  Why  should  such  a 
great  man  as  Paul  be  anxious  about  a  thing  so  insignificant  as  an  overcoat? 
It  was  because  he  knew  that  with  pneumonia  and  rheumatism  he  would  not  be 
worth  half  as  much  to  God  and  the  Church  as  with  respiration  easy  and  foot 
free. 

PHYSICAL  HEALTH. 
An  intelligent  Christian  man  would  consider  it  an  absurdity  to  kneel  down 
at  night  and  pray  and  ask  God's  protection  while  at  the  same  time  he  kept 
the  windows  of  his  bed-room  tight  shut  against  fresh  air.  He  would  just  as 
soon  think  of  going  out  on  the  bridge  between  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  leap- 
ing off  and  then  praying  to  God  to  keep  him  from  getting  hurt.  Just  as  long 
as  .you  defer  this  whole  subject  of  physical  health  to  the  realm  of  whimsicality 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  27: 

or  to  the  pastry  cook,  or  to  the  butcher,  or  to  the  baker,  or  to  the  apothecary, 
or  to  the  clothier,  you  are  not  acting  like  a  Christian.  Take  care  of  all  your 
physical  forces — nervous,  muscular,  bone,  brain,  cellular  tissue — for  all  you 
must  be  brought  to  judgment. 

Smoking  your  nervous  system  into  fidgets,  burning  out  the  coating  of  your 
stomach  with  wine,  logwooded  and  strychnined,  walking  with  thin  shoes  to 
make  your  feet  look  delicate,  pinched  at  the  waist  until  you  are  nigh  cut  in 
two,  and  neither  part  worth  anything,  groaning  about  sick  headache  and  pal- 
pitation of  the  heart,  which  you  think  came  from  God,  when  they  came  from 
your  own  folly.  When  the  doorkeeper  of  Congress  fell  dead  from  excessive 
joy  because  Burgoyne  had  surrendered  at  Saratoga,  and  Philip  the  Fifth,  of 
Spain,  dropped  dead  at  the  news  of  his  country's  defeat  in  battle,  and  Cardinal 
Wolsey  expired  as  a  result  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  anathema,  it  was  demon- 
strated that  the  body  and  soul  are  Siamese  twins,  and  when  you  thrill  the  one 
with  joy  or  sorrow  you  thrill  the  other.  We  might  as  well  recognize  the  tre- 
mendous fact  that  there  are  two  mighty  fortresses  in  the  human  body,  the 
heart  and  the  liver  :  the  heart  the  fortress  of  all  the  graces,  the  liver  the  fort- 
ress of  all  the  furies. 

What  right  has  any  man  or  woman  to  deface  the  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?  What  is  the  ear  ?  Why,  it  is  the  whispering  gallery  of  the  human 
soul.  What  is  the  eye  ?  It  is  the  observatory  God  constructed,  its  telescope 
sweeping  the  heavens.  What  is  the  hand  ?  An  instrument  so  wonderful  that 
when  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater  bequeathed  in  his  will  $40,000  for  treatises  to  be 
written  on  the  wisdom,  power  and  goodness  of  God,  Sir  Charles  Bell,  the  great 
English  anatomist  and  surgeon,  found  his  greatest  illustration  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  human  hand,  devoting  his  whole  book  to  that  subject.  So  wonderful 
are  these  bodies  that  God  names  his  own  attributes  after  different  parts  of  them. 
His  omniscience — it  is  God's  eye.  His  omnipresence — it  is  God's  ear.  His  om- 
nipotence— it  is  God's  arm.  The  upholstery  of  the  midnight  heavens — it  is  the 
work  of  God's  fingers.  His  life-giving  power — it  is  the  breath  of  the  Almighty. 
His  dominion — "  The  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulders."  A  body 
so  divinely  honored  and  so  divinely  constructed — let  us  be  careful  not  to 
abuse  it. 

When  it  becomes  a  Christian  duty  to  take  care  of  our  health,  is  not  the 
whole  tendency  toward  longevity  ?  If  I  toss  my  watch  about  recklessly  and 
drop  it  on  the  pavement  and  wind  it  up  any  time  of  day  or  night  I  happen  to 
think  of  it,  and  often  let  it  run  down,  while  you  are  careful  with  your  watch 
and  never  abuse  it,  and  wind  it  up  just  at  the  same  hour  every  night  and 
put  it  in  a  place  where  it  will  not  suffer  from  the  violent  changes  of  atmo- 
sphere, which  watch  will  last  the  longer?  Common  sense  answers.  Now,  the 
human  body  is  God's  watch.  You  see  the  hands  of  the  watch,  you  see  the- 
face  of  the  watch,  but  the  beating  of  the  heart  is  the  ticking  of  the  watch 
Oh,  be  careful  and  do  not  let  it  run  down  ! 


(272) 


THB  BLOOM   OF  HEALTH   AND  THE  WHISPER   OF  LOVE. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  273 

DISSIPATIONS  THAT   DESTROY   HEALTH. 

Practical  religion  is  a  friend  of  longevity  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  protest 
against  dissipations  which  injure  and  destroy  the  health.  Bad  men  and  women 
live  a  very  short  life.  Their  sins  kill  them.  I  know  hundreds  of  good  old 
men,  but  I  do  not  know  half  a  dozen  bad  old  men.  Why  ?  They  do  not  get 
old.  Lord  Byron  died  at  Missolonghi  at  thirty-six  years  of  age,  himself  his  own 
Mazeppa,  his  unbridled  passions  the  horse  that  dashed  with  him  into  the  desert. 
Edgar  Allan  Poe  died  at  Baltimore  at  thirty-eight  years  of  age.  The  black  raven 
chat  alighted  011  the  bust  above  his  chamber  door  was  delirium  tremens — 

Only  this  and  nothing  more. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte  lived  only  just  beyond  mid-life,  and  died  at  St. 
Helena,  and  one  of  his  doctors  said  that  his  disease  was  induced  by  exces- 
sive snuffing.  The  hero  of  Austerlitz,  the  man  who  by  one  step  of  his  foot 
in  the  centre  of  Europe  shook  the  earth,  killed  by  a  snuff-box!  Oh,  how 
many  people  we  have  known  who  have  not  lived  out  half  their  days  because 
of  their  dissipations  and  indulgences !  Now  practical  religion  is  a  protest 
against  all  dissipation  of  any  kind. 

"But,"  you  say,  "professors  of  religion  have  fallen,  professors  of  religion 
have  got  drunk,  professors  of  religion  have  misappropriated  trust  funds,  pro- 
fessors of  religion  have  absconded."  Yes,  but  they  threw  away  their  religion 
before  they  did  their  morality.  If  a  man  on  a  White  Star  Line  steamer  bound 
for  Liverpool  in  mid- Atlantic  jumps  overboard  and  is  drowned,  is  that  any- 
thing against  the  White  Star  Line's  capacity  to  take  the  man  across  the 
ocean?  And  if  a  man  jumps  over  the  gunwale  of  his  religion  and  goes  down 
never  to  rise,  is  that  any  reason  for  your  believing  that  religion  has  no  capac- 
ity to  take  the  man  clear  through  ?  In  the  one  case  if  he  had  kept  to  the 
steamer  his  body  would  have  been  'saved ;  in  the  other  case  if  he  had  kept  to 
his  religion  his  morals  would  have  been  saved. 

There  are  aged  people  who  would  have  been  dead  twenty-five  years  ago 
but  for  the  defenses  and  equipoise  of  religion.  You  have  no  more  natural 
resistance  than  hundreds  of  people  who*  lie  in  the  cemeteries  to-day,  slain  by 
their  own  vices.  The  doctors  made  their  case  as  kind  and  pleasant  as  they 
could,  and  it  was  called  congestion  of  the  brain,  or  something  else,  but  the 
snakes  and  the  blue  flies  that  seemed  to  crawl  over  the  pillow  in  the  sight  of 
the  delirous  patient  showed  what  was  the  matter  with  him.  You,  the  aged 
Christian  man,  walked  along  by  that  unhappy  one  until  you  came  to  the 
golden  pillar  of  a  Christian  life.  You  went  to  the  right ;  he  went  to  the  left. 
That  is  all  the  difference  between  you.  Oh,  if  this  religion  is  a  protest  against 
all  forms  of  dissipation,  then  it  is  an  illustrious  friend  of  longevity.  "  With 
long  life  will  I  satisfy  him." 
18 


274 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


WORRY   AND    TROUBLE. 

Religion  is  a  friend  of  longevity  in  the  fact  that  it  takes  the  worry  out  of 
our  temporalities.  It  is  not  work  that  kills  men;  it  is  worry.  When  a  man 
becomes  a  genuine  Christian  he  makes  over  to  God  not  only  his  affections, 
but  his  family,  his  business,  his  reputation,  his  body,  his  mind,  his  soul — 
everything.  Industrious  he  will  be,  but  never  worrying,  because  God  is  man- 
aging his  affairs.  How  can  he  worry  about  business,  when  in  answer  to  his 
prayers  God  tells  him  when  to  buy  and  when  to  sell ;  and  if  he  gain  that  is 
best,  and  if  he  lose  that  is  best?  Suppose  you  had  a  supernatural  neighbor 
who  came  in  and  said : 

"  Sir,  I  want  you  to  call  on  me  in  every  exigency ;  I  am  your  fast  friend ; 
I  could  fall  back  on  $20,000,000 ;  I  can  foresee  a  panic  ten  years ;  I  hold  thfe 
controlling  stock  in  thirty  of  the  best  monetary  institutions  of  New  York : 
whenever  you  are  in  trouble  call  on  me  and  I  will  help  you ;  you  can  have  my 
money  and  you  can  have  my  influence ;  here  is  my  hand  in  pledge  for  it." 

How  much  would 
3'ou  worry  about  busi- 
ness? Why,  you 
would  say:  "I'll  do 
the  best  I  can,  and 
then  I'll  depend  on 
my  friend's  gener- 
osity for  the  rest." 

Now,  more  than 
that  is  promised  to 
every  Christian  busi- 
ness man.  God  says 
to  him :  "  I  own  New 
York,  and  London, 
and   St.   Petersburg, 

and  Pekin ;  and  Australia  and  California  are  mine ;  I  can  foresee  a  panic  a 
million  years ;  I  have  all  the  resources  of  the  universe,  and  I  am  your  fast 
friend ;  when  you  get  in  business  trouble,  or  any  other  trouble,  call  on  Me. 
and    I  will  help ;  here  is  My  hand  in  pledge  of  omnipotent  deliverance.'' 

How  much  should  that  man  worry  ?  Not  much.  What  lion  will  dare  to 
put  his  paw  on  that  Daniel  ?  Is  there  not  rest  in  this  ?  Is  there  not  an  eternal 
vacation  in  this  ? 

"Oh,"  you  say,  "here  is  a  man  who  asked  God  for  a  blessing  in  a  certain 
enterprise,  and  he  lost  $5000  in  it.  Explain  that."  I  will.  Yonder  is  a  factor}', 
and  one  wheel  is  going  north  and  the  other  wheel  is  going  south,  and  one 
wheel  plays  laterally  and  the  other  plays  vertically.  I  go  to  the  manufacturer 
and  I  say :  "  O  manufacturer,  your  machinery  is  a  contradiction.  Why  do 
you  not  make  all  the  wheels  go  one  way?" 


THE  HEADING  HAND — CLEANSING  THE  LEPER. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


275 


"  Well," 


he  said,  "I  made  them  go 
they  produce  the  right  result.  You  go 
we  are  turning  out  in  this  es- 
tablishment and  you  will  see." 
I  go  down  on  the  other  floor  and 
I  see  the  carpets,  and  I  am 
obliged  to  confess  that  though 
the  wheels  in  that  factory  go  in 
opposite  directions,  they  turn 
out  a  beautiful  result ;  and  while 
I  am  standing  there  looking  at 
the  exquisite  fabric  an  old  Scrip- 
ture passage  comes  into  my 
mind :  "All  things  work  to- 
gether for  good  to  them  who 
love  God."  Is  there  not  rest  in 
that?  Is  there  not  tonic  in 
that?  Is  there  not  longevity  in 
that? 

There  is  a  kind  of  sickness 
that  is  beautiful  when  it  comes 
from  overwork  for  God,  or  one's 
country,  or  one's  own  family.  I 
have  seen  wounds  that  were 
glorious.  After  the  battle  of 
Antietam,  in  the  hospital  a 
soldier  in  reply  to  my  question : 
"  Where  are  you  hurt  ?"  uncov- 
ered his  bosom  and  showed  me 
a  gash  that  looked  like  a  badge 
of  eternal  nobility.  I  have  seen 
an  empty  sleeve  that  was  more 
beautiful  than  the  most  muscular 
forearm.  I  have  seen  a  green 
shade  over  the  eye  shot  out  in 
battle  that  was  more  beautiful 
than  any  two  eyes  that  had 
passed  without  injury.  I  have 
seen  an  old  missionary,  worn- 
out  with  the  malaria  of  African 
jungles,  who  looked  more  radiant 
to  me  than  a  rubicund  gymnast. 


in  opposite  directions  on  purpose,  and 


down-stair's  and  examine  the  carpets 


reverence.—  After  the  Sculpture  of  C.  B.  Birch. 


I  have  seen  a  mother,  after  a  six  weeks'  watch- 
ing over  a  family  of  children  down  with  the  scarlet  fever,  with  a  glory  around 


V6  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

her  pale  and  wan  face  that  surpassed  the  angelic.  It  all  depends  on  how  you 
got  your  sickness  and  in  what  battle  your  wounds.  Frederick  T.  Frelinghuysen, 
the  pride  of  New  Jersey — ay,  of  the  nation — and  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  and  for  nearly  four  years  practically  President  of  the  United  States, 
although  in  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State,  in  his  determination  to  make  peace 
with  all  the  Governments  on  this  American  continent,  wore  himself  out,  and 
while  his  brain  was  as  keen  as  it  ever  was,  and  his  heart  beat  as  regularly  as 
it  ever  did,  he  was,  according  to  the  bulletins  of  his  physicians  at  Washington 
and  Newark,  dying  of  hardening  of  the  liver.  Satan,  who  does  not  like  good 
men,  sent  a  dart  through  his  liver.  The  last  my  dear  friend — for  he  was  my 
friend  and  my  father's  friend  before  me — the  last  he  was  seen  in  Washington 
was  in  the  President's  carriage,  leaning  his  head  against  the  shoulder  of  the 
President,  on  his  way  to  the  depot  to  take  the  train  to  go  home  to  die.  Martyr 
of  the  public  service,  he  died  for  his  country  though  he  died  in  time  of  peace. 
In  his  earlier  life  he  was  called  the  nephew  of  his  uncle,  Theodore  Frelinghuysen, 
but  he  livdd  to  render  for  God  and  his  country  a  service  that  will  make  others 
proud  to  be  his  nephew,  and  which  will  keep  his  name  on  the  scroll  of  history 
as  the  highest  style  of  Christian  statesman  that  this  century  or  any  other 
century  has  produced. 

COMFORTING   ASSURANCES. 

Practical  religion  is  a  friend  of  longevity  in  the  fact  that  it  removes  all 
corroding  care  about  a  future  existence.  Every  man  wants  to  know  what  is 
to  become  of  him.  If  you  get  on  board  a  rail  train  you  want  to  know  at  what 
depot  it  is  going  to  stop;  if  you  get  on  board  a  ship  you  want  to  know  into 
what  harbor  it  is  going  to  run,  and  if  you  should  tell  me  you  have  no  interest 
in  what  is  to  be  your  future  destiny,  I  would,  in  as  polite  a  way  as  I  know 
how,  tell  you  I  did  not  believe  you.  Before  I  had  this  matter  settled  with 
reference  to  my  future  existence,  the  question  almost  worried  me  into  ruined 
health.  The  anxieties  men  have  upon  this  subject  put  together  would  make  a 
martyrdom.  This  is  a  state  of  awful  unhealthiness.  There  are  people  who  fret 
themselves  to  death  for  fear  of  dying.  I  want  to  take  the  strain  off  your  nerves 
and  the  depression  off  your  soul,  and  I  make  two  or  three  experiments. 

Experiment  First :  When  you  go  out  of  this  world  it  does  not  make  any 
difference  whether  you  have  been  good  or  bad,  or  whether  you  believe  truth 
or  error,  you  will  go  straight  to  glory. 

"  Impossible,"  you  say ;  "  my  common  sense  as  well  as  my  religion 
teaches  me  that  the  bad  and  the  good  cannot  live  together  forever.  You 
give  me  no  comfort  in  that  experiment." 

Experiment  Second :  When  you  leave  this  world  you  will  go  into  an 
intermediate  state,  where  you  can  get  converted  and  prepared  for  heaven. 

"  Impossible,"  you  say ;  "  as  the  tree  falleth  so  it  must  lie,  and  I  cannot 
postpone  to  an  intermediate  state  reformation  which  ought  to  have  been  effected 
in  this  state." 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


277 


Experiment  Third :  There  is  no  future  world ;  when  a  man  dies  that  is 
the  last  of  him.  Do  not  worry  about  what  you  are  to  do  in  another  state  of 
being ;    you  will  not  do  anything. 

"  Impossible,"  you  say ;  "  there  is  something  that  tells  me  that  death  is 
not  the  appendix,  but  the  preface;  there  is  something  that  tells  me- that  on 
this  side  of  the  grave  I  only  get  started,  and  that  I  shall  go  on  forever;  my 
power  to  think  says,  '  forever ' ;  my  affections  say,  '  forever ' ;  my  capacity  to 
enjoy  or  suffer,  '  forever.'  " 

Well,  you  defeat  me  in  my  three  experiments.     I  have   only  one   more  to 
make,  and  if  you  defeat  me  in  that    I  am  exhausted :     A    mighty    One,    on    a 
knoll  back  of  Jerusalem,  one  day,  the  skies   filled  with   forked   lightnings  and 
the   earth    filled    with 
volcanic    disturbances, 
turned    His    pale    and 
agonized    face    toward 
the  heavens,  and  said  : 
I    take    the    sins    and 
sorrows    of    the    ages 
into  My  own  heart.     I 
am    the     expiation. 
Witness    earth    and 
heaven  and  hell,  I  am 
the  expiation. 

And  the  hammer 
struck  Him,  and  the 
spears  punctured  Him, 
and  heaven  thundered : 
"  The  wages  of  sin  is 
death !"  "  The  soul 
that  -  sinneth  it  shall 
die!"  "I  will  by  no 
means  clear  the 
guilty!"     Then   there 

was  silence  for  half  an  hour,  and  the  lightnings  were  drawn  back  into  the 
scabbard  of  the  sky,  and  the  earth  ceased  to  quiver  and  all  the  colors  of  the 
sky  began  to  shift  themselves  into  a  rainbow  woven  out  of  the  falling  tears 
of  Jesus,  and  there  was  red  as  of  the  bloodshedding,  and  there  was  blue  as 
of  the  bruising  and  there  was  green  as  of  the  heavenly  foliage,  and  there 
was  orange  as  of  the  day-dawn.  And  along  the  line  of  the  blue  I  saw  the 
words :  "I  was  bruised  for  their-  iniquities."  ,  And  along  the  line  of  the  red 
I  saw  the  words:  "The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  And 
along  the  line  of  the  green  I  saw  the  words :  "  The  leaves  of  the  tree  of  life 
for  the  healing  of  the  nations."  And  along  the  line  of  the  orange  I  saw  the 
words:    "The  day-spring  from  on  high  hath  visited  us." 


PEACE  BE   STIIA. 


278 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


THE   SACRIFICE  TO  ACCEPT. 

And  then  I  saw  the  storm  was  over,  and  the  rainbow  rose  higher  and 
higher  until  it  seemed  retreating  to  another  ^eaven,  and  planting  one  column 
of  its   colors   on   one  side   the  eternal   hili,  and  planting  the  other  column  of 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  SEPULCHRE. 


its   colors  on  the  other  side  the  eternal  hill,  it  rose  upward  and  upward,  "  and 
behold  there  was  a  rainbow  about  the  throne." 

Accept  this  sacrifice    and    quit  worrying.     Take    the    tonic,  the  inspiration, 
the  longevity  of  this  truth.     Religion  is  sunshine ;  that  is  health.     Religion  is 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


279 


fresh  air  and  pure  water.  Religion  is  warmth ;  that  is  healthy.  Ask  all  the 
doctors  and  they  will  tell  you  that  a  quiet  conscience  and  pleasant  anticipations 
are  hygienic.     I  offer  you  perfect  peace  now  and  hereafter. 

What  do  you  want  in  the  future  world  ?  Tell  me  and  you  shall  have  it. 
Orchards  ?  There  are  the  trees  with  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  yielding  fruit 
every  month.  Water  scenery  ?  There  is  the  River  of  Life,  from  under  the 
throne  of  God,  clear  as  crystal,  and  the  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire.  Do 
you  want  music  ?  There  is  the  oratorio  of  the  Creation  led  on  hy  Adam,  and 
the  oratorio  of  the  Red  Sea  led  on  by  Moses,  and  the  oratorio  of  the  Messiah 
led  on  by  St.  Paul,  while  the  archangel,  with  swinging  baton,  controls  the  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  who  make  up  the  orchestra. 

Do  you  want  reunion  ?  There  are  your  dead  children  waiting  to  kiss  you, 
waiting  to  embrace  you,  waiting  to  twist  garlands  in  your  hair.  You  have 
been  accustomed  to  open  the  door  on  this  side  the  sepulchre.  I  open  the  door 
on  the  other  side  the  sepulchre.  You  have  been  accustomed  to  walk  in  the 
wet  grass  on  the  top  of  the  grave.  I  show  you  the  tinder  side  of  the  grave ; 
the  bottom  has  fallen  out  and  the  long  ropes  with  which  the  pall-bearers  let 
dowu  your  dead,  let  them  clear  through  into  heaven. 


&  §f)tptorcdt. 

^^%jR     REACHING  THE  GOLDEN   SHORE   ON   FRAGMENTS  OF  WRECK. 

°EVER  off  Goodwin  Sands,  or  the  Skerries,  or  Cape  Hat- 
teras   was    a    ship    in  worse    predicament   than    in    the 
Mediterranean   hurricane  was  the    grain   ship,  on  which 
276   passengers  were   driven  on  the  coast  of  Malta,  five 
miles    from   the   metropolis    of  that  island   called  Civita 
Vecchia.     After  a  two  weeks'  tempest  and  the  ship  was 
entirely  disabled,  and  captain  and  crew  had  become  com- 
pletely demoralized,    an   old    missionary    took   command 
of  the  vessel.     He  was    small,  crooked-backed  and  sore- 
eyed,    according    to    tradition.     It    was    Paul,    the   only 
unscared    man    aboard.      He   was    no   more    afraid    of  a 
Euroclydon  tossing  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  now  up  to  the  gates  of 
heaven  and  now  sinking  it  to  the  gates  of  hell,  than  he  was  afraid 
of  a  kitten    playing  with   a  string.     He    ordered  them    all  down  to 
?4  take    their   rations,    first    asking    for    them    a    blessing.     Then  he 
insured  all  their  lives,  telling  them  they  would  be  rescued,  and,  so 
far  from  losing  their  heads,   they  would   not  lose  so  much  of  their 
hair  as  you  could  cut  off  with  one  click  of  the  scissors ;  ay,  not  a  thread- 
of  it,  whether  it  were  gray  with  age  or  golden  with  youth.    "  There 
shall  not  a  hair  fall  from  the  head  of  any  of  you." 

THE   "WRECK. 

Knowing  that  they  can  never  get  to  the  desired  port,  they 
make  the  sea  on  the  fourteenth  night  black  with  overthrown  cargo,  so  that 
when  the  ship  strikes  it  will  not  strike  so  heavily.  At  daybreak  they  saw  a 
creek,  and  in  their  exigency  resolved  to  make  for  it.  And  so  they  cut  the 
cables,  took  in  the  two  paddles  that  they  had  on  these  old  boats,  and  hoisted 
the  mainsail  so  that  they  might  come  with  such  force  as  to  be  driven  high  up 
on  the  beach  by  some  fortunate  billow.  There  she  goes — tumbling  toward  the 
rock,  now  prow  foremost,  now  stern  foremost,  now  rolling  over  to  the  star- 
board, now  a  wave  dashes  clear  over  the  deck,  and  it  seems  as  if  the  old  craft 
has  gone  forever.  But  up  she  comes  again.  Paul's  arm  around  a  mast,  he 
cries :  "All  is  well.     God  has  given  me  all  those  that  sail  with  me." 

Crash  went  the  prow  with  such  force  that  it  broke  off  the  mast.  Crash 
went  the  timbers  till  the  sea  rushed  through  from  side  to  side  of  the  vessel. 
She  parts    amidships,  and   into  a  thousand    fragments  the  vessel,  and   into  the 

faSo) 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


281 


waves  276  mortals  are  precipitated.  Some  of  them  had  been  brought  up  on 
the  seashore  and  had  learned  to  swim,  and  with  their  chins  just  above  the 
waves,  and  by  stroke  of  both  arms  and  propulsion  of  both  feet,  they  put  out 
for   the   beach    and    reach  it.      But   alas    for   those    others.     They    have   never 


paul  being  taken  away  from  prison  To  Rome. — From  a  Painting  by  Bomat. 

learned  to  swim,  or  they  were  wounded  by  the  falling  of  the  mast,  or  the  ner- 
vous shock  was  too  great  for  them.  And  others  had  been  weakened  by  the 
long  sea-sickness. 


282 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


Oh,  what  will  become  of  them?  "Take  that  piece  of  a  rudder,"  says  Paul 
to  one.  "  Take  that  fragment  of  a  spar,"  says  Paul  to  another.  "  Take  that 
table."  "Take  that  image  of  Castor  and  Pollux."  "Take  that  plank  from 
the  lifeboat."     "Take  anything  and  head  for  the  beach." 

What  a  struggle  for  life  in  the  breakers !  Oh,  the  merciless  waters,  how 
they  sweep  over  the  heads  of  men,  women  arid  children !  Hold  on  there ! 
Almost  ashore,  keep  up  your  courage !  Remember  what  Paul  told  you. 
There,  the  receding  wave  on  the  beach  leaves  in  the  sand  a  whole  family. 
There  crawls  up  out  of  the  surf  the  centurion.  There  another  plank  comes  in 
with  a  life  clinging    fast    to    it.  ?'There    another    piece    of   the  shattered  vessel 

with  its  freightage  of 
an  immortal  soul. 
They  must  by  this  time 
all  be  saved.  Yes; 
there  comes  in  last  of 
all,  for  he  had  been 
overseeing  the  rest,  the 
old  missionary,  who 
wrings  the  water  from 
his  grey  beard  and  cries 
out:  "Thank  God,  all 
are  here ! " 

Gather  them  around 
the  fire  and  call  the 
roll.  Paul  builds  a 
fire,  and  when  the 
bundles  of  sticks  begin 
to  crackle,  and,  stand- 
ing and  sitting  around 
the  blaze,  the  passen- 
gers begin  to  recover 
from  their  chill,  and  their  wet  clothes  begin  to  dry,  and  warmth  begins  to 
come  into  all  the  shivering  passengers,  let  the  purser  of  the  vessel  go 
round  and  see  if  any  of  the  poor  creatures  are  missing.  Not  one  of  the  crowd 
that  were  plunged  into  the  sea.  How  it  relieves  our  anxiety  as  we  read: 
"  Some  on  broken  pieces  of  the  ship,  and  so  it  came  to  pass  they  all  escaped 
safe  to  land." 

Having  on  previous  occasions  looked  at  the  other  passengers,  I  confine 
myself  here  to  an  examination  of  those  who  came  in  on  broken  pieces  of  the 
ship.  There  is  something  about  them  that  excites  in  me  an  intense  interest. 
I  am  not  so  much  interested  in  those  that  could  swim.  They  got  ashore,  as  I 
expected.  A  mile  of  water  is  not  a  very  great  undertaking  for  a  strong  swim- 
mer, or  even  two  miles   are  not.     But   I   cannot   stop  thinking  about  those   on 


PAUL'S   SHIPWRECK. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  283 

broken  pieces  of  the  ship.  The  great  gospel  ship  is  the  finest  vessel  of  the 
universe,  and  can  carry  more  passengers  than  any  ship  ever  constructed,  and 
you  could  no  more  wreck  it  than  you  could  wreck  the  throne  of  God  Almighty. 
I  wish  all  the  people  would  come  aboard  of  her.  I  could  not  promise  a  smooth 
voyage,  for  ofttimes  it  will  be  tempestuous  or  a  chopped  sea,  but  I  could  promise 
safe  arrival  for  all  who  took  passage  on  that  Great  Eastern,  so  called  by  me 
because  its  commander  came  out  of  the  East,  the  star  of  the  East  a  badge  of 
His  authority. 

But  a  vast  multitude  do  not  take  regular  passage.  Their  theology  is 
broken  in  pieces,  and  their  lives  are  broken  in  pieces,  and  their  habits  are 
broken  in  pieces,  and  their  worldly  and  spiritual  prospects  are  broken  in  pieces, 
and  yet  I  believe  they  are  going  to  reach  the  shining  shore ;  and  I  am  en- 
couraged by  the  experience  of  those  people  who  were  saved  with  Paul,  and  the 
promise  on  record  that  even  the  sea  shall  give  up  its  dead,  mother  and 
child,  father  and  son,  sailor  and  captain,  if  they  died  in  Christ,  to  whatever 
port  in  life  they  were  bound  they  shall  gain  the  heavenly  port. 

I  do  not  underrate  the  value  of  a  great 
theological  system,  but  where  in  all  the  Bible 
is  there  anything  that  says  :  Believe  in  John 
Calvin  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  or  believe 
in  Arminius  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  or 
believe  in  the  Synod  of  Dort  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved,  or  believe  in  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles  and  thou  shalt  be  saved?  A  man 
may  be  orthodox  and  go  to  hell,  or  hetero- 
dox and  go  to  heaven.  The  man  who,  in  ^^P 
the  deep  affection  of  his  heart  accepts  Christ 
is  saved,  and  the  man  who  does   not   accept 

.        '  r  SAVED   ON    BROKEN    PIECES   OF   THE  SHIP. 

Him  is  lost. 

I  believe  in  both  the  Heidelberg  and  Westminster  catechism,  and  I  wish 
you  all  did,  but  you  may  believe  in  nothing  they  contain  except  the  one  idea 
that  Christ  came  to  save  sinners,  and  that  you  are  one  of  them,  and  j^ou  are 
instantly  rescued.  If  you  can  come  in  the  grand  old  ship,  I  would  rather 
have  you  get  aboard,  but  if  you  can  find  only  a  piece  of  wood  as  long  as  the 
human  body  or  a  piece  as  wide  as  the  outspread  human  arms,  and  either  of 
them  is  a  piece  of  the  cross,  come  in  on  that  piece.  Tens  of  thousands  of 
people  are  to-day  kept  out  of  the  kingdom  of  God  because  they  cannot  believe 
everything. 

I  am  talking  with  a  man  thoughtful  about  his  soul  who  has  lately 
travelled  through  New  England  and  passed  the  night  at  Andover.  He  says  to 
me:  "I  cannot  believe  that  in  this  life  the  destiny  is  irrevocably  fixed;  I 
think  there  will  be  another  opportunity  of  repentance  after  death." 

I  say  to  him :     "  My  brother,  what  has  that  to  do  with  you  ?      Don't  you 


284 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


realize  that  a  man  who  waits  for  another  chance  after  death  when  he  has  a 
good  chance  before  death  is  a  stark  fool  ?  Had  not  you  better  take  the  plank 
that  is  thrown  to  you  now  and  head  for  shore,  rather  than  wait  for  a  plank 
that  may  by  invisible  hands  be  thrown  to  you  after  you  are  dead  ?  Do  as 
you  please,  but    as  for    myself,  with   pardon    for    all    my  sins  offered    me    now, 


The  SEA  shah  give  up  THE  dead. — From  a  Bas-relief  by  Flaxman. 

and  all  the  joys  of  time  and  eternity  offered  me  now,  I  instantly  take  them 
rather  than  run  the  risk  of  such  another  chance  as  wise  men  think  they  can 
peel  off  or  twist  out  of  a  Scripture  passage  that  has  for  all  the  Christian  cen- 
turies been  interpreted  another  way." 


TAKE   TO   THE   PLANK. 


You  say :     "  I  do  not  like  Princeton  theology,  or  New  Haven  theology,  or 
Andover  theology." 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


285 


I  do  not  ask  you  on  board  any  of  these  great  men-of-war,  their  port- 
holes filled  with  the  great  siege-guns  of  ecclesiastical  battle.  But  I  do  ask 
you  to  take  the  one  plank  of  the  gospel  that  you  do  believe  in  and  strike  out 
for  the  pearl-strung  beach  of   heaven. 

Says  some  other  man:  "I  would  attend  to  religion  if  I  was  quite  sure 
about  the  doctrine  of  election    and    free    agency,  but   that    mixes    me    all    up." 


A   YOUNG   HERO. 


Those  things  used  to  bother  me,  but  I  have  no  more  perplexity  about  themr 
for  I  say  to  myself:  "If  I  love  Christ  and  live  a  good,  honest,  useful  life,  I 
am  elected  to  be  saved;  and  if  I  do  not  love  Christ  and  live  a  bad  life,  I 
will  be  damned,  and  all  the  theological  seminaries  of  the  universe  cannot 
make  it  any  different." 


286  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

I  floundered  a  long  while  in  the  sea  of  sin  and  doubt,  an<?  it  was  a* 
rough  as  the  Mediterranean  on  the  fourteenth  night,  when  they  threw  the 
grain  overboard,  but  I  saw  there  was  mercy  for  a  sinner,  and  that  plank  I 
took,  and  I  have  been  warming  myself  by  the  bright  fire  on  the  shore  for 
three  decades. 

doesn't  believe  in  a  hell. 

Whije  I  am  talking  to  another  man  about  his  soul  he  tells  me :  "  I  do 
-not  become  a  Christian  because  I  do  not  believe  there  is  any  hell  at  all." 

Ah !  don't  you  ?  Do  all  the  people,  of  all  beliefs  and  no  beliefs  at  all, 
of  good  morals  and  bad  morals,  go  straight  to  a  happy  heaven  ?  Do  the  holy 
and  the  debauched  have  the  same  destination  ?  At  midnight  in  a  hallway  the 
owner  of  a  house  and  a  burglar  meet  each  other,  and  they  both  fire,  and 
both  are  wounded,  but  the  burglar  died  in  five  minutes  and  the  owner  of  the 
house  lives  a  week  after ;  will  the  burglar  be  at  the  gate  of  heaven  waiting 
when  the  house-owner  comes  in  ?  Will  the  debauchee  and  the  libertine  go 
right  in  among  the  families  of  heaven  ?  I  wonder  if  Herod  is  playing  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  of  life  with  the  children  he  massacred.  I  wonder  if  Charles 
Guiteau  or  John  Wilkes  Booth  are  up  there  shooting  at  a  mark.  I  do 
not  now  controvert  it,  although  I  must  say  that  for  such  a  miserable  heaven 
I  have  no  admiration.  But  the  Bible  does  not  say,  "  Believe  in  perdition  and 
be  saved."  Because  all  are  saved,  according  to  your  theory,  that  ought  not  to 
keep  you  from  loving  and  serving  Christ.  Do  not  refuse  to  come  ashore 
because  all  the  others,  according  to  your  theory,  are  going  to  get  ashore.  You 
may  have  a  different  theory  about  chemistry,  about  astronomy,  about  the 
atmosphere,  from  that  which  others  adopt,  but  you  are  not  therefore  hindered 
from  action.  Because  your  theory  of  light  is  different  from  others,  do  not 
refuse  to  open  your  eyes.  Because  your  theory  of  air  is  different  you  do  not 
refuse  to  breathe.  Because  your  theory  about  the  stellar  system  is  different, 
you  do  not  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  North  Star.  Why  should  the  fact  that 
your  theological  theories  are  different  hinder  you  from  acting  upon  what  you 
know  ?  If  you  have  not  a  whole  ship  fashioned  in  the  theological  dry  docks 
to  bring  you  to  wharfage,  you  have  at  least  a  plank. 

don't  believe  in  revivals. 

"But  I  don't  believe  in  revivals!" 

Then  go  to  your  room,  and  all  alone  with  your  door  locked,  give  your 
heart  to  God,  and  join  some  church  where  the  thermometer  never  gets  higher 
than  fifty  in  the  shade. 

"But  I  do  not  believe  in  baptism!" 

Come  in  without  it,  and  settle  that  matter  afterward. 

"But  there  are  so  many  inconsistent  Christians!" 

Then  ccme  in  and  show  them  by  a  good  example  how  professors  ought  to  ac* 

"  But  I  don't  believe  in  the  Old  Testament!" 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  287 

Then  come  in  on  the  New. 

"But  I  don't  like  the  Book  of  Romans!" 

Then  come  in  on  Matthew  or  Luke.  Refusing  to  come  to  Christ,  whom 
you  admit  to  be  the  Saviour  of  the  lost,  because  you  cannot  admit  other  things 
you  are  like  a  man  out  there  in  that  Mediterranean  tempest,  and  tossed  in  the 
Melita  breakers,  refusing  to  come  ashore  until  he  can  mend  the  pieces  of  the 
broken  ship.     I  hear  him  say : 

"I  won't  go  in  on  any  of  these  planks  until  I  know  in  what  part  of  the 
ship  they  belong.  When  I  can  get  the  windlass  in  the  right  place,  and  the 
sails  set,  and  that  keel-piece  where  it  belongs,  and  that  floor  timber  right,  and 
these  ropes  untangled,  I  will  go  ashore.  I  am  an  old  sailor  and  know  all 
about  ships  for  forty  years,  and  as  soon  as  I  can  get  the  vessel  afloat  in  good 
shape  I  will  come  in." 

A  man  drifting  by  on  a  piece  of  wood  overhears  him  and  says: 

"You  will  drown  before  you  get  that  ship  reconstructed.  Better  do  as  I  am 
doing.  I  know  nothing  about  ships,  and  never  saw  one  before  I  came  on  board 
this,  and  I  cannot  swim  a  stroke,  but  I  am  going  ashore  on  this  shivered 
timber." 

SETTLING   DIFFICULTIES. 

You  may  get  all  your  difficulties  settled,  as  Garibaldi,  the  magnetic  Ital- 
ian, got  his  gardens  made.  When  the  war  between  Austria  and  Sardinia  broke 
out  he  was  living  at  Caprera,  a  very  rough  and  uncultured  island  home.  But 
he  went  forth  with  his  sword  to  achieve  the  liberation  of  Naples  and  Sicily, 
and  gave  9,000,000  people  free  government  under  Victor  Emanuel.  Garibaldi, 
after  being  absent  two  years  from  Caprera,  returned,  and,  when  he  approached 
it,  he  found  that  his  home  had,  by  Victor  Emanuel,  as  a  surprise,  been  Edenized. 
Trimmed  shrubbery  had  taken  the  place  of  thorny  thickets,  gardens  the  place  of 
barrenness,  and  the  old  rookery  in  which  he  once  lived  had  given  way  to  a 
picturesque  mansion,  where  he  lived  in  comfort  the  rest  of  his  days.  And  I  tell 
you  if  you  will  come  and  enlist  under  the  banner  of  our  Victor  Emanuel,  and 
follow  Him  through  thick  and  thin,  and  fight  His  battles,  and  endure  His 
sacrifices,  you  will  find  after  a  while  that  He  has  changed  your  heart  from  a  jungle 
of  thorny  skepticisms  into  a  garden  all  abloom  with  luxuriant  joy  that  you  have 
never  dreamt  of;     from  a  tangled  Caprera  of  sadness  into  a  paradise  of  God! 

BELIEVE   IN   SOMETHING. 

I  do  not  know  how  your  theological  system  went  to  pieces.  It  may  be  that 
your  parents  started  you  with  only  one  plank,  and  you  believed  little  or  nothing. 
Or  they  may  have  been  too  rigid  and  severe  in  religious  discipline  and  cracked 
you  over  the  head  with  a  psalm-book.  It  may  be  that  some  partner  in  busi- 
ness, who  was  a  member  of  an  evangelical  church,  played  on  you  a  trick  that 
disgusted  you  with  religion.  It  may  be  that  you  have  associates  who  have  talked 
.against  Christianity  in  your  presence  until    you  are  "all  at  sea,"  and  you  dwell 


(»8S) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


289 


more  on  things  that  you  do  not  believe  than  on  things  you  do  believe.  You  are 
in  one  respect  like  Lord  Nelson,  when  a  signal  was  lifted  that  he  wished  to  dis- 
regard and  he  put  his  sea-glass  to  his  blind  eye  and  said :  "  I  really  do  not  see 
the  signal." 

If  you  can  believe  nothing  else,  you  certainly  believe  in  vicarious  suffer- 
ing, for  you  see  it  almost  every  day  in  some  shape.  Some  time  ago  the  steam- 
ship Knickerbocker,  of  the  Cromwell  Line,  running  between  New  Orleans  and 
New  York  was  in  great  storms,  and  the  captain  and  crew  saw  the  schooner  Mary 
D.  Cranmer,  of  Philadelphia,  in  distress.  The  weather  cold,  the  waves  moun- 
tain high,  the  first  officer  of  the  steamship  and  four  men  put  out  in  a  lifeboat 
to  save  the  crew  of  the  schooner,  and  reached  the  vessel  and  towed  it  out  of 
danger,  the  wind  shifting  so  that  the  schooner  was  saved.  But  the  five  men 
of   the    steamship    coming   back,  their   boat    capsized,    yet    righted    again    and 


RAMSGATE   PIER-HEAD. 


came  on,  the  sailors  coated  with  ice.  The  boat  capsized  again,  and  three 
times  upset  and  was  righted,  and  a  line  was  thrown  the  poor  fellows,  but 
their  hands  and  arms  were  frozen  so  they  could  not  grasp  it,  and  a  great 
wave  rolled  over  them,  and  they  went  down,  never  to  rise  till  the  sea  gives 
up  its  dead.  Appreciate  that  heroism  and  self-sacrifice  of  the  brave  fellows 
we  all  can,  and  can  we  not  appreciate  the  Christ  who  put  out  in  a  more 
biting  cold  and  into  a  more  overwhelming  surge  to  bring  us  out  of  infinite 
peril  into  everlasting  safety  ?  The  wave  of  human  hate  rolled  over  Him  from 
one  side,  and  the  wave  of  hellish  fury  rolled  over  Him  on  the  other  side.  Oh, 
the  thickness  of  the  night  and  the  thunder  of  the  tempest  into  which  Christ 
plunged  for  our  rescue! 
19 


29o  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

COME   IN   ON  THE   CROSS. 

Come  in  on  that  one  narrow  beam,  the  beam  of  the  cross.  Let  all  else 
go,  and  cling  to  that.  Put  that  under  you,  and  with  the  earnestness  of  a 
swimmer  struggling  for  his  life,  put  out  for  shore.  There  is  a  great  warm 
fire  of  welcome  already  built,  and  already  many  who  were  as  far  out  as  you 
are,  are  standing  in  its  genial  and  heavenly  glow.  The  angels  of  God's 
rescue  are  wading  out  into  the  surf  to  clutch  your  hand,  and  they  know  how 
exhausted  you  are,  and  all  the  redeemed  prodigals  of  heaven  are  on  the  beach 
with  new  white  robes  to  clothe  all  those  who  come  in  on  broken  pieces  of 
the  ship. 

My  sympathies  are  for  such  all  the  more  because  I  was  naturally  skepti- 
cal, disposed  to  question  everything  about  this  life  and  the  next,  and  was  in 
danger  of  being  further  out  at  sea  than  any  of  the  276  in  the  Mediterranean 
breakers,  and  I  was  sometimes  the  annoyance  of  my  theological  professor 
because  I  asked  so  many  questions.  But  I  came  in  on  a  plank.  I  knew 
Christ  was  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  and  that  I  was  a  sinner,  and  I  got  ashore, 
and  I  do  not  propose  to  go  out  on  that  sea  again.  I  have  not  for  thirty 
minutes  discussed  the  controverted  points  of  theology  in  thirty  years.  And 
during  the  rest  of  my  life  I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  them  for  thirty  seconds. 

I  would  rather,  in  a  mud-scow,  try  to  weather  the  worst  cyclone  that  ever 
swept  up  from  the  Caribbean  than  risk  my  immortal  soul  in  useless  and  peril- 
ous discussion,  in  which  some  of  my  brethren  in  the  ministry  are  indulging. 
They  remind  me  of  a  company  of  sailors  standing  on  Ramsgate  pier-head, 
from  which  the  life-boats  are  usually  launched,  and  coolly  discussing  the  dif- 
ferent styles  of  oar-locks  and  how  deep  a  boat  ought  to  set  in  the  water,  while 
a  hurricane  is  in  full  blast,  and  there  are  three  steamers,  crowded  with  pas- 
sengers, going  to  pieces  in  the  offing.  An  old  tar,  the  muscles  of  his  face 
working  with  nervous  excitement,  cries  out : 

"  This  is  no  time  to  discuss  such  things.  Man  the  life-boat !  Who  will 
volunteer?  Out  with  her  into  the  surf!  Pull,  my  lads,  pull  for  the  wreck  I 
Ha !  ha !  Now  we  have  them !  Lift  them  in  and  lay  them  down  on  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  Jack,  you  try  to  bring  them  to.  Put  these  flannels  around 
their  hands  and  feet,  and  I  will  pull  for  the  shore.  God  help  me!  There! 
Landed!     Huzza!"  » 

From  many  a  death-bed  I  have  seen  the  hands  thrown  up  in  deploration 
something  like  this:  "My  life  has  been  wasted.  I  had  good  mental  faculties, 
and  fine  social  position,  and  great  opportunity,  but  through  worldliness  and 
neglect  all  has  gone  to  waste  save  these  few  remaining  hours.  I  now  accept 
of  Christ,  and  shall  enter  heaven  through  His  mercy ;  but  alas !  alas !  that  when 
I  might  have  entered  the  haven  of  eternal  rest  with  a  full  cargo,  and  been 
greeted  by  the  waving  hands  of  a  multitude  in  whose  salvation  I  had  borne 
a  blessed  part,  I  must  confess  I  now  enter  the  harbor  of  heaven  on  broken 
pieces  of  the  ship!" 


(Kfjttstmas. 


MOTHERHOOD,    BABYHOOD,   SCIENCE  AND   THE    FIELDS 
OF    GOD. 


'OW  painfully  and  wearily  one  thousand  years  of  the 
world's  existence  rolled  along,  and  no  Christ. 
Two  thousand  years,  and  no  Christ.  Three 
thousand  years,  and  no  Christ.  Four  thousand 
years,  and  no  Christ.  "  Give  us  a  Christ,"  had 
cried  Assyrian  and  Persian  and  Chaldean  and 
Egyptian  civilizations,  but  the  lips  of  the  earth 
and  the  lips  of  the  sky  made  no  answer.  The 
world  had  already  been  affluent  of  genius.  Among 
poets  had  appeared  Homer  and  Thespis  and 
Aristophanes  and  Sophocles  and  Euripides  and 
Alexis  ^Eschylus,  yet  no  Christ  to  be  the  most 
poetic  figure  of  the  centuries.  Among  historians 
had  appeared  Herodotus  and  Xenophon  and 
Thucydides,  but  no  Christ  from  whom  all  his- 
tory was  to  date  backward  and  forward — B.  C.  and  A.  D.  Among  conquerors 
Camillus  and  Manlius,  and  Regulus,  and  Hannibal,  and  Scipio,  and  Pompey, 
and    Caesar,    yet    no    Christ    who   was  to    be  conqueror  of  earth  and  heaven. 

But  the  slow  century,  and  the  slow  year,  and  the  slow  month,  and  the  slow 
hour  at  last  arrived.  The  world  had  had  matins  or  concerts  in  the  morning 
and  vespers  or  concerts  in  the  evening,  but  now  it  is  to  have  a  concert  at  mid- 
night. The  black  window-shutters  of  a  December  night  were  thrown  open,  and 
some  of  the  best  singers  of  the  world  stood  there,  and,  putting  back  the 
drapery  of  cloud,  chanted  a  peace  anthem,  until  all  the  echoes  of  hill  and  val- 
ley applauded  and  encored  the  hallelujah  chorus. 

At  last  the  world  has  a  Christ,  and  just  the  Christ  it  needs.  Come,  let 
us  go  into  that  Christmas  scene  as  though  we  had  never  before  worshipped  at 
the  manger.  Here  is  a  Madonna  worth  looking  at.  I  wonder  not  that  the 
most  frequent  name  in  all  lands  and  in  all  Christian  centuries  is  Mary.  And 
there  are  Marys  in  palaces  and  Marys  in  cabins,  and  though  German  and 
French  and  Italian  and  Spanish  and  English  pronounce  it  differently  they  are 
all  namesakes  of  the  one  whom  we  find  on  a  bed  of  straw  with  her  pale  face 
against  the  soft  cheek  of  Christ   in   the  night  of  the  nativity.     All    the    great 

(291) 


292 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


painters  have  tried  on  canvas  to  present  Mary  and  her  Child,  and  the  incidents 
of  that  most  famous  night  of  the  world's  history.  Raphael  in  three  different 
masterpieces  celebrated  them.  Tintoretto  and  Ghirlandajo  surpassed  themselves 
in  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi.  Correggio  needed  to  do  nothing  more  than  his 
Madonna  to  become  immortal.  The  Madonna  of  the  Lily,  by  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  will  kindle  the  admiration  of  all  ages.'  Murillo  never  won  greater 
triumph  by  his  pencil  than  in  his  presentation  of  the  Holy  Family.  But  all 
the  galleries  of  Dresden  are  forgotten  when  I  think  of  the  small  room  of  that 
gallery  containing  the  Sistine  Madonna.  Yet  all  of  them  were  copies  of  St. 
Matthew's  Madonna,  and  Luke's  Madonna,  the  inspired  Madonna  of  the  Old 
Book,  which  He  had  put  into  our  hands  when  we  were  infants,  and  that  we 
hope  to  have  under  our  heads  when  we  die. 

man's  cruelty  to  animals. 

Behold,  in    the    first   place,  that    on   the    first   night  of   Christ's    life    God 

honored  the  brute  creation.  You  cannot  get 
into  that  Bethlehem  barn  without  going  past 
the  camels,  the  mules,  the  dogs,  the  oxen. 
The  brutes  of  that  stable  heard  the  first  cry 
of  the  infant  Lord.  Some  of  the  old  painters 
represent  the  oxen  and  camels  kneeling  that 
night  before  the  new-born  Babe.  And  well 
might  they  kneel.  Have  you  ever  thought 
that  Christ  came  among  other  things  to 
alleviate  ■  the  sufferings  of  the  brute  creation  ? 
Was  it  not  appropriate  that  He  should  during 
the  first  few  days  and  nights  of  His  life 
on  earth  be  surrounded  by  the  dumb  beasts 
whose  moan  and  plaint  and  bellowing  have 
for  ages  been  a  prayer  to  God  for  the  arrest- 
ing of  their  tortures  and  the  righting  of  their 


THE  SISTINE   MADONNA. 


wrongs  ?  It  did  not  merely  "  happen  so " 
that  the  unintelligent  creatures  of  God  should  have  been  that  night  in  close 
neighborhood.  Not  a  kennel  in  all  the  centuries,  not  a  bird's  nest,  not  a 
worn-out  horse  on  tow-path,  not  a  herd  freezing  in  the  poorly-built  cow-pen, 
not  a  freight  car  in  summer  time  bringing  the  beeves  to  market  without 
water  through  a  thousand  miles  of  agony,  not  a  surgeon's  room  witnessing 
the  struggles  of  fox,  or  rabbit,  or  pigeon,  or  dog  in  the  horrors  of  vivisection 
but  has  an  interest  in  the  fact  that  Christ  was  born  in  a  stable  surrounded 
by  brutes.  He  remembers  that  night,  and  the  prayer  He  heard  in  their  pitiful 
moan  He  will  answer  in  the  punishment  of  those  who  maltreat  the  dumb 
brutes.     They  surely  have  as  much  right  in  this  world  as  we  have. 

In  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  you  may  see  that  they  were  placed  on  the 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


293 


earth  before  man  was — the  fish  and  fowl  the  fifth  day,  and  the  quadruped  the 
morning  of  the  sixth  da)-,  and  man  not  until  the  alternoon  of  that  day.  The 
whale,  the  eagle,  the  lion,  and  all  the  lesser  creatures  of  their  kind  were  prede- 
cessors of  the  human  family.  They  have  the  world  by  right  of  possession. 
They  have  also  paid  rent  for  the  places  they  occupied.  What  an  army  of 
defense  all  over  the  land  are  the  faithful  watch  dogs.  And  who  can  tell  what 
the  world  owes  to  horse,  and  camel,  and  ox  for  transportation  ?  And  robin  and 
lark  have,  by  the  cantatas  with  which  they  have  filled  orchard  and  forest,  more 


THE   CHILDREN'S    PETS. 

than  paid  for  the  few  grains  the)'  have  picked  up  for  their  sustenance.  When 
you  abuse  any  creature  of  God  you  strike  its  Creator,  and  you  insult  the  Christ 
who,  though  He  might  have  been  welcomed  into  life  by  princes,  and  taken  His 
first  infantile  slumber  amid  Tyrian  plush,  and  canopied  couches,  and  rippling 
waters  from  royal  aqueducts  dripping  into  basins  of  ivory  and  pearl,  chose  to  be 
born  on  a  level  with  a  cow's  horn,  or  a  camel's  hoof,  or  a  dog's  nostril,  that 
He  might  be  the  alleviation  of  brutal  suffering  as  well  as  the  Redeemer  of  man. 
Standing  then,  as  I  imagine  now  I  do,  in  that  Bethlehem  night,  with  an 
infant    Christ    on    the    one    side    and    the    speechless    creatures    of   God   on  the 


294  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

other,  I  cry,  Look  out  how  you  strike  the  rowel  into  that  horse's  side.  Take 
off  that  curbed  bit  from  that  bleeding  mouth.  Remove  that  saddle  from  that 
raw  back.  Shoot  not  for  fun  that  bird  that  is  too  small  for  food.  Forget  not 
to  put  water  into  the  cage  of  that  canary.  Throw  out  some  crumbs  to  those 
birds  caught  too  far  north  in  the  winter's  inclemency.  Arrest  that  man  who  is 
making  one  horse  draw  a  load  heavy  enough  for'  three.  Rush  in  upon  that 
scene  where  boys  are  torturing  a  cat  or  transfixing  a  butterfly  or  grasshopper. 
Drive  not  off  that  old  robin,  for  her  nest  is  a  mother's  cradle,  and  under  her 
wing  there  may  be  three  or  four  prima  donnas  of  the  sky  in  training.  And  in 
your  families  and  in  your  schools  teach  the  coming  generation  more  mercy 
than  the  present  generation  has  ever  shown,  and  in  this  marvellous  Bible 
picture  of  the  nativity,  while  you  point  out  to  them  the  angel,  show  them  also 
the  camel,  and  while  they  hear  the  celestial  chant  let  them  also  hear  the  cow's 
moan.  No  more  did  Christ  show  interest  in  the  botanical  world  than  when  He 
said,  "  Consider  the  lilies,"  than  He  showed  sympathy  for  the  ornithological 
when  He  said,  "Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air,"  and  the  quadrupedal  world  when 
He  allowed  Himself  to  be  called  in  one  place  a  lion  and  in  another  place  a  lamb. 
Meanwhile,  may  the  Christ  of  the  Bethlehem  cattle-pen  have  mercy  on  the 
suffering  stock-yards  that  are  preparing  diseased  and  fevered  meat  for  our 
American  households. 

THE    BIRTH   OF   CHRIST. 

Behold  also  in  this  Bible  scene  how  on  that  Christmas  night  God  honored 
childhood.  Christ  might  have  made  His  first  visit  to  our  world  in  a  cloud,  as 
He  will  descend  on  His  next  visit  in  a  cloud.  In  what  a  chariot  of  illumined 
vapor  He  might  have  rolled  down  the  sky,  escorted  by  mounted  cavalry,  with 
lightning  of  drawn  sword.  Elijah  had  a  carriage  of  fire  to  take  him  up,  why 
not  Jesus  a  carriage  of  fire  to  bring  Him  down  ?  Or  over  the  arched  bridge  of 
a  rainbow  the  Lord  might  have  descended.  Or  Christ  might  have  had  His 
mortality  built  up  on  earth  out  of  the  dust  of  a  garden,  as  was  Adam,  in  full 
manhood  at  the  start,  without  the  introductory  feebleness  of  infancy.  No,  no  f 
Childhood  was  to  be  honored  by  that  advent.  He  must  have  a  child's  light 
limbs,  and  a  child's  dimpled  hand,  and  a  child's  beaming  eye,  and  a  child^s- 
flaxen  hair,  and  babyhood  was  to  be  honored  for  all  time  to  come,  and  a. 
cradle  was  to  mean  more  than  a  grave.  Mighty  God !  May  the  reflection  of 
that  one  Child's  face  be  seen  in  all  infantile  faces.  Enough  have  those  fathers 
and  mothers  on  hand  if  they  have  a  child  in  the  house.  A  throne,  a  crown,  a 
sceptre,  a  kingdom  under  charge.  Be  careful  how  you  strike  him  across  the 
head,  jarring  the  brain.  What  you  say  to  him  will  be  centennial  and  millen- 
nial, and  one  hundred  years  and  one  thousand  years  will  not  stop  the  echo- 
and  re-echo.  Do  not  say,  "  It  is  only  a  child."  Rather  say,  "  It  is  only  an 
immortal."  It  is  only  a  masterpiece  of  Jehovah.  It  is  only  a  being  that  shall 
outlive  the  -sun  and  moon  and  stars  and  ages  quadrillennial.  God  has  infinite 
resources  and  He  can  give  presents  of  great  value,  but  when  He  wants  to  give 


I 

0 


s 


ir 

is 


(295) 


296  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

the  richest  possible  gift  to  a  household  He  looks  around  all  the  worlds  and  all 
the  universe,  and  then  gives  a  child.  The  greatest  present  that  God  ever  gave 
our  world  He  gave  about  1888  years  ago,  and  He  gave  it  on  a  Christmas  night, 
and  it  was  of  such  value  that  Heaven  adjourned  for  a  recess  and  came  down 
and  broke  through  the  clouds  to  look  at  it.  Yea,  in  all  ages  God  has  honored 
childhood.  He  makes  almost  every  picture  a  failure,  unless  there  be  a  child 
either  playing  on  the  floor,  or  looking  rnrough  the  window,  or  seated  on  the 
lap  gazing  into  the  face  of  its  mother.  It  was  a  child  in  Naaman's  kitchen 
that  told  the  great  Syrian  warrior  where  he  might  go  and  get  cured  of  the 
leprosy,  which  at  his  seventh  plunge  in  the  Jordan,  was  left  at  the  bottom  of 
the  river.  It  was  to  the  cradle  of  leaves  in  which  a  child  was  laid  rocked  by 
the  Nile  that  God  called  the  attention  of  history.  It  was  a  sick  child  that 
evoked  Christ's  curative  sympathies.  It  was  a  child  that  Christ  set  in  the 
midst  of  the  squabbling  disciples  to  teach  the  lesson  of  humility.  We  are 
informed  that  wolf,  and  leopard,  and  lion  shall  be  yet  so  domesticated  that  a 
little  child  shall  lead  them.  A  child  decided  Waterloo,  showing  the  army  of 
Blucher  how  they  could  take  a  short  cut  through  the  fields  when,  if  the  old 
road  had  been  followed,  the  Prussian  General  would  have  come  up  too  late  to 
save  the  destinies  of  Europe.  It  was  a  child  that  decided  Gettysburg,  he 
1  laving  overheard  two  Confederate  Generals  in  a  conversation  in  which  they 
decided  to  march  for  Gettysburg  instead  of  Harrisburg,  and  this,  reported  to 
Governor  Curtin,  the  Federal  forces  started  to  meet  their  opponents  at  Gettysburg. 
And  the  child  of  to-day  is  to  decide  all  the  great  battles,  make  all  the  laws, 
settle  all  the  destinies  and  usher  in  the  worldjs  salvation  or  destruction.  Men, 
women,  nations,  all  earth  and  all  heaven,  behold  the  child !  Is  there  any 
velvet  so  soft  as  a  child's  cheek  ?  Is  there  any  sky  so  blue  as  a  child's  eye  ? 
Is  there  any  music  so  sweet  as  the  child's  voice?  Is  there  any  plume  so  wavy 
as  a  child's  hair  ? 

SCIENCE  HONORED. 
Notice  also  that  in  this  Bible  night-scene  God  honored  science.  Who  are 
the  three  wise  men  kneeling  before  the  divine  Infant?  Not  boors,  not  ignora- 
muses, but  Caspar,  Belthasar  and  Melchior,  men  who  knew  all  that  was  to  be 
known.  They  were  the  Isaac  Newtons  and  Herschels  and  Faraday s  of  their 
time.  Their  alchemy  was  the  forerunner  of  our  sublime  chemistry,  their 
astrology  the  mother  of  our  magnificent  astronomy.  They  had  studied  stars, 
studied  metals,  studied  physiology,  studied  everything.  And  when  I  see  these 
scientists  bowing  before  the  beautiful  Babe  I  see  the  prophecy  of  the  time  when 
all  the  telescopes  and  microscopes,  and  all  the  Leyden  jars,  and  all  the  electric 
batteries,  and  all  the  observatories,  and  all  the  universities  shall  bow  to  Jesus. 
It  is  much  that  way  already.  Where  is  the  college  that  does  not  have  morning 
prayers,  thus  bowing  at  the  manger?  Who  have  been  the  greatest  physicians? 
Omitting  the  names  of  the  living,  lest  we  should  be  invidious,  have  we  not  Jiad 
among  them    Christian    men    like    our    own  Joseph  C.   Hutchinson,  and  Rush, 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


297 


and  Valentine  Mott,  and  Abercrombie,  and  Aoernethy?  Who  have  been  our 
greatest  scientists?  Joseph  Henry,  who  lived  and  died  in  the  faith  of  the  gospel, 
and  Agassiz,  who,  standing  with  his  students  among  the  hills,  took  off  his  hat 


JESUS,  the  carpenter's  son.—  From  the  Painting  by  J.  E.  Millais. 

and  said :  "  Young  gentlemen,  before  we  study  these  rocks,  let  us  pray  for 
wisdom  to  the  God  who  made  the  rocks."  To-day  the  greatest  doctors  and 
lawyers  of    Brooklyn  and  New  York,  and    of    all    this   land,  and  of    all  lands, 


298  THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

revere  the  Christian  religion,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  say  so  before  juries  and 
legislatures  and  senates.  All  geology  will  yet  bow  before  the  Rock  of  Ages. 
All  botany  will  yet  worship  the  Rose  of  Sharon.  All  astronomy  will  yet  recog-. 
nize  the  Star  of  Bethlehem.  And  physiology  and  anatomy  will  join  hands  and 
say :  "  We  must,  by  the  help  of  God,  get  the  human  race  up  to  the  perfect 
nerve,  and  perfect  muscle,  and  perfect  brain,  and  perfect  form  of  that  perfect 
Child  before  whom  nigh  2000  years  ago  Caspar,  and  Belthasar,  and  Melchior 
bent  their  tired  knees  in  worship. 

Behold  also  in  that  first  Christmas  night  that  God  honored  the  fields.  Come 
in,  shepherd  boys,  to  Bethlehem  and  see  the  Child.  "  No,"  they  say ;  "  we  are 
not  dressed  good  enough  to  come  in."  "Yes,  you  are  ;  come  in."  Sure  enough, 
the  storms,  and  the  night  dew,  and  the  brambles  have  made  rough  work  with 
their  apparel,  but  none  have  a  better  right  to  come  in.  They  were  the  first 
to  hear  the  music  of  that  Christmas  night.  The  first  announcement  of  a  Saviour's 
birth  was  made  to  those  men  in  the  fields.  There  were  wiseacres  that  night 
in  Bethlehem  and  Jerusalem  snoring  in  deep  sleep,  and  there  were  salaried 
officers  of  government,  who,  hearing  of  it  afterward,  may  have  thought  that 
they  ought  to  have  had  the  first  news  of  such  a  great  event.  Some  one  dis- 
mounting from  a  swift  camel  at  their  door  and  knocking  until  at  some  sentinel's 
question,  "  Who  comes  there  ?"  the  great  ones  of  the  palace  might  have  been 
told  of  the  celestial  -arrival.  No  ;  the  shepherds  heard  the  first  two  bars  of  the 
music,  the  first  in  the  major  key  and  the  last  in  the  subdued  minor:  "Glory 
be  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  to  men." 

THE   FIELDS   HONORED. 

Ah,  yes ;  the  fields  were  honored.  The  old  shepherds  with  plaid  and  crook 
have  for  the  most  part  vanished,  but  we  have  grazing — our  United  States  pasture 
fields  and  prairies  contain  about  45,000,000  sheep — and  all  their  keepers  ought 
to  follow  the  shepherds  who  were  first  told  of  the  holy  birth,  and  all  those 
who  toil  in  fields,  all  vine-dressers,  all  orchardists,  all  husbandmen.  Not  only 
that  Christmas  night,  but  all  up  and  down  the  world's  history  God  has  been 
honoring  the  fields.  Nearly  all  the  messiahs  of  reform,  and  literature,  and  elo- 
quence, and  law,  and  benevolence,  have  come  from  the  fields.  Washington  from 
the  fields.  Jefferson  from  the  fields.  The  Presidential  martyrs,  Garfield  and 
Lincoln,  from  the  fields.  Henry  Clay  from  the  fields.  Daniel  Webster  from 
the  fields.  Martin  Luther  from  the  fields.  And  before  this  world  is  right  the 
overflowing  populations  of  our  crowded  cities  will  have  to  take  to  the  fields. 
Instead  of  ten  merchants  in  rivalry  as  to  who  shall  sell  that  one  apple,  we  want 
at  least  eight  of  them  to  go  out  and  raise  apples.  Instead  of  ten  merchants 
desiring  to  sell  that  one  bushel  of  wheat,  we  want  at  least  eight  of  them  to  go 
out  and  raise  wheat.  The  world  wants  now  more  hard  hands,  more  bronzed 
cheeks,  more  muscular  arms.  To  the  fields  !  God  honored  them  when  He  woke 
up  the  shepherds  by  the  midnight  anthem,  and  He  will,  while  the  world  lasts,. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


299 


continue  to  honor  the  fields.  When  the  shepherd's  crook  was  that  famous 
night  stood  against  the  wall  of  the  Bethlehem  khan,  it  was  a  prophecy  of  the 
time  when  thresher's  flail,  and  farmer's  plow,  and  woodman's  axe,  and  ox's 
yoke,  and  sheaf-binder's  rake  shall  surrender  to  the  God  who  made  the  country 
as  man  made  the  town. 

THE   MOTHER. 

Behold  also  that   on  that  Christmas  night  God  honored  motherhood.     Two 
angels  on  their  wings  might  have  brought  an  infant  Saviour  to  Bethlehem  with- 


The  young  farmer. — From  (he  Painting  by  J.  C.  Ibbetson. 

out  Mary's  being  there  at  all.  When  the  villagers,  on  the  morning  of  De- 
cember 2^,  awoke,  by  divine  arrangement  and  in  some  unexplained  way,  the 
child  Jesus  might  have  been  found  in  some  comfortable  cradle  of  the  village. 
But  no,  no !  Motherhood  for  all  time  was  to  be  consecrated,  and  one  of 
the  tenderest  relations  was  to  be  the  maternal  relation,  and  one  of  the  sweet- 
est words  "  Mother."  In  all  ages  God  has  honored  good  motherhood.  John 
Wesley  had  a  good  mother;  St.  Bernard  had  a  good  mother;  Samuel  Budgeft 
a  good  mother;   Doddridge  a  good  mother;    Walter  Scott  a  good  mother;    Ben- 


3°° 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


jamin  West  a  good  mother.  In  a  great  audience,  most  of  whom  were  Chris- 
tians I  asked  that  all  those  who  had  been  blessed  of  Christian  mothers  arise, 
and  almost  the  entire  assembly  stood  up.      Don't  you  see  how  important   it  is 


mother. — From  the  Painting  by  G.  D.  Leslie. 


that  all  motherhood  be  consecrated?  Why  did  Titian,  the  Italian  artist,  when 
he  sketched  the  Madonna,  make  it  an  Italian  face?  Why  did  Rubens,  the 
•German  artist,  in  his  Madonna,  make  it  a  German  face?  Why  did  Joshua 
Reynolds,    the    English    artist,   in   his    Madonna     make    it  an    English    face? 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  301 

Why  did  Murillo,  the  Spanish  artist,  in  his  Madonna,  make  it  a  Spanish  face? 
I  never  heard,  but  I  think  they  took  their  own  mothers  as  the  type  of  Mary, 
the  mother  of  Christ.  When  you  hear  some  one  in  sermon  or  oration  speak 
in  the  abstract  of  a  good,  faithful,  honest  mother  your  eyes  fill  up  with  tears, 
while  you  say  to  yourself,  that  was  my  mother.  The  first  word  a  child  utters 
is  apt  to  be  "Mother,"  and  the  old  man  in  his  dying  dream  calls,  "Mother! 
Mother !  "  It  matters  not  whether  she  was  brought  up  in  the  surrounding  of  a 
city,  and  in  affluent  home,  and  was  dressed  appropriately  with  reference  to  the 
demands  of  modern  life,  or  whether  she  wore  the  old-time  cap,  and  great 
round  spectacles,  and  apron  of  her  own  make,  and  knit  your  socks  with  her 
own  needles,  seated  by  the  broad  fire-place,  with  great  black  log  ablaze  on  a 
winter  night.  It  matters  not  how  many  wrinkles  crossed  and  recrossed  her 
face,  or  how  much  her  shoulders  stooped  with  the  burdens  of  a  long  life,  if 
you  painted  a  Madonna  hers  would  be  the  face.  What  a  gentle  hand  she  had 
when  we  were  sick,  and  what  a  voice  to  soothe  pain,  and  was  there  any  one 
who  could  so  fill  up  a  room  with  peace,  and  purity,  and  light  ?  And  what  a 
sad  day  that  was  when  we  came  home  and  she  could  greet  us  not,  for  her  lips 
were  forever  still.  Come  back,  mother,  this  Christmas  day,  and  take  your  old 
place,  and  as  ten,  or  twenty,  or  fifty  years  ago,  come  and  open  the  old  Bible 
you  used  to  read,  and  kneel  in  the  same  place  where  you  used  to  pray,  and 
look  upon  us  as  of  old  when  you  wished  us  a  Merry  Christmas  or  a  Happy 
New  Year.  But  no !  That  would  not  be  fair  to  call  you  back.  You  had 
troubles  enough,  and  aches  enough,  and  bereavements  enough  while  you  were 
here.  Tarry  by  the  throne,  mother,  till  we  join  you  there,  your  prayers  all 
answered,  and  in  the  eternal  homestead  of  our  God  we  shall  again  keep  Christ- 
mas jubilee  together.  But  speak  from  your  thrones,  all  you  glorified  mothers, 
and  say  to  all  these,  your  sons  and  daughters,  words  of  love,  words  of  warning, 
words  of  cheer.  They  need  your  voice,  for  they  have  travelled  far  and  with 
many  a  heart-break  since  you  left  them,  and  you  do  well  to  call  from  the 
heights  of  heaven  to  the  valleys  of  the  earth.  Hail,  enthroned  ancestry !  We 
are  coming.     Keep  a  place  for  us  right  beside  you  at  the  banquet. 

Slow-footed  years  !     More  swiftly  run 
Into  the  gold  of  that  unsetting  sun. 
Homesick  we  are  for  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea. 


Amusements. 

RECREATION   FOR  THE  BODY  GIVES  PEACE   TO  THE  SOUE. 

the  Temple  of  Dagon  there  were  3000  people  assem- 
bled. They  had  come  to  make  sport  of  eyeless  Samson. 
They  were  all  ready  for  the  entertainment.  They  be- 
gan to  clap  and  pound,  impatient  for  the  amusement  to 
begin,  and  they  cried :  "  Fetch  him  out,  fetch  him  out  I" 
Yonder  I  see  the  blind  old  giant  coming,  led  by  the 
hand  of  a  child  into  the  very  midst  of  the  temple.  At 
his  first  appearance  there  goes  up  a  shout  of  laughter 
and  derision.  The  blind  old  giant  pretends  he  is  tired, 
and  wants  to  rest  himself  against  the  pillars  of  the 
house;  so  he  says  to  the  lad  who  leads  him:  "Show 
me  where  the  main  pillars  are."  The  lad  does  so. 
Then  the  strong  man  puts  his  right  hand  on  one  pillar 
and  his  left  hand  on  another  pillar,  and,  with  the 
mightiest  push  that  mortal  ever  made,  throws  himself 
forward  until  the  whole  house  comes  down  in  thunder- 
ous crash,  grinding  the  audience  like  grapes  in  a  wine- 
press. "And  so  it  came  to  pass,  when  their  hearts 
were  merry,  that  they  said:  'Call  for  Samson,  that  he 
may  make  us  sport.'  And  they  called  for  Samson  out 
of  the  prison-house,  and  he  made  them  sport." 

In  other  words :  There  are  amusements  that  are  destructive,  and  bring 
down  disaster  and  death  upon  the  heads  of  those  who  practise  them.  While 
they  laugh  and  cheer,  they  die.  The  3000  who  perished  that  day  in  Gaza  are 
as  nothing  when  compared  to  the  tens  of  thousands  who  have  been  destroyed 
by  sinful  amusements. 

But  there  is  a  lawful  use  of  the  world  as  well  as  an  unlawful  abuse  of  it, 
and  the  difference  between  the  man  Christian  and  the  man  unchristian  is  that 
in  the  former  case  the  man  masters  the  world,  while  in  the  latter  case  the 
world  masters  him.  For  whom  did  God  make  this  grand  and  beautiful  world  ? 
For  whom  this  wonderful  expenditure  of  color,  this  gracefulness  of  line,  this 
mosaic  of  the  ground,  this  fresco  of  the  sky,  this  glowing  fruitage  of  orchard 
and  vineyard>  this  full  orchestra  of  the  tempest,  in  which  the  tree  branches 
flute,  and  the  winds  trumpet,  and  the  thunders  drum,  and  all  the  splendors  of 
earth   and   sky  come   clashing  their  cymbals  ?     For  whom  did    God  spring  the 

(302) 


(3°3) 


3o4  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

arched  bridge  of  colors  resting  upon  buttresses  of  broken  storm-cloud?  For 
whom  did  He  gather  the  upholstery  of  fire  around  the  window  of  the  setting 
sun  ?    For  all  men  ;  but  more  especially  for  His  own  dear  children. 

THE  WORLD   FOR   GOD'S   OWN   CHILDREN. 

If  you  build  a  large  mansion  and  spread  a  great  feast  aftet  it  to  celebrate 
the  completion  of  the  structure,  do  you  allow  strangers  to  come  in  and  occupy 
the  place  while  you  thrust  your  own  children  in  the  kitchen,  or  the  barn,  or  the 
fields?  Oh,  no.  You  say,  "I  am  very  glad  to  see  strangers  in  my  mansion, 
but  my  own  sons  and  daughters  shall  have  the  first  right  there."  Now,  God 
has  built  this  grand  mansion  of  a  world,  and  He  has  spread  a  glorious  feast  in 
it ;  and  while  those  who  are  strangers  to  His  grace  may  come  in,  I  think  that 
God  especially  intends  to  give  the  advantage  to  His  own  children,  those  who 
are  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty,  those  who  through  grace 
can  look  up  and  say,  "Abba,  Father."  You  cannot  make  me  believe  that 
God  gives  more  advantages  to  the  world  than  He  gives  to  the  Church  bought 
by  His  own  blood.  If,  therefore,  people  of  the  world  have  looked  with  dolorous 
sympathy  upon  those  who  make  profession  of  religion,  and  have  said,  "  Those 
new  converts  are  going  down  into  a  privation  and  into  hardship.  Why  did  not 
they  tarry  a  little  longer  in  the  world,  and  have  some  of  its  enjoyments  an'1 
amusements  and  recreations?"  I  say  to  such  men  of  the  world,  "You  are 
greatly  mistaken,"  and  before  I  get  through  I  will  show  that  those  peo.ple  who 
stay  out  of  the  kingdom  of  God  have  the  hardships  and  self-denials,  while 
those  who  come  in  have  the  joys  and  the  satisfactions. 

In  the  name  of  the  King  of  heaven  and  earth,  I  serve  a  writ  of  ejectment 
upon  all  the  sinful  and  polluted  who  have  squatted  on  the  domain  of  earthly 
pleasure  as  though  it  belonged  to  them,  while  I  claim,  in  behalf  of  the  good, 
and  the  pure,  and  the  true,  the  eternal  inheritance  which  God  has  given  them. 
Hitherto  Christian  philanthropists,  clerical  and  lay,  have  busied  themselves 
chiefly  in  denouncing  sinful  recreations,  but  I  feel  we  have  no  right  to  stand 
before  men  and  women  in  whose  hearts  there  is  a  desire  for  recreation  amounting 
to  positive  necessity,  denouncing  this  and  that  and  the  other  thing,  when  we  do 
not  propose  to  give  them  something  better.  I  propose  therefore  to  lay  before 
you  some  of  the  recreations  which  are  not  only  innocent,  but  positively  help- 
ful and  advantageous. 

In  the  first  place,  I  commend,  among  indoor  recreations,  music,  vocal  and 
instrumental.  Among  the  first  things  created  was  the  bird,  so  that  the  earth 
might  have  music  at  the  start.  This  world  which  began  with  so  sweet  a  sere- 
nade, is  finally  to  be  demolished  amidst  the  ringing  blast  of  the  archangel's 
trumpet,  so  that  as  there  was  music  at  the  start,  there  shall  be  music  at  the 
close.  While  this  heavenly  art  has  often  been  dragged  into  the  uses  of  super- 
stition and  dissipation,  we  all  know  it  may  be  the  means  of  high  moral  culture. 
Oh,  it  is  a  grand  thing  to  have  our  children  brought  up  amidst  the  sound  of 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


305 


cultured  voices  and  amidst  the  melody  of  musical  instruments.  There  is  in  this 
art  an  indescribable  fascination  for  the  household.  Let  all  those  families  who 
have  the  means  to  afford  it,  have  flute  or  harp,  or  piano  or  organ.  As  soon 
as  the  hand  is  large  enough  to  compass  the  keys,  teach  it  how  to  pick  out  the 
melody.  Let  all  our  young  men  try  this  heavenly  art  upon  their  nature. 
Those  who  have  gone  into  it    fully  have  found    in  it    illimitable  recreation  and 


MUSIC   IN   THE   HOUSEHOLD. 

amusement.  Dark  days,  stormy  nights,  seasons  of  sickness,  business  disasters, 
will  do  little  toward  depressing  the  soul  which  can  gallop  off  over  musical  keys 
or  soar  in  jubilant  lay.  It  will  cure  pain.  It  will  rest  fatigue.  It  will  quell 
passion.  It  will  revive  health.  It  will  reclaim  dissipation.  It  will  strengthen 
the  immortal  soul.  In  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  Wellington  saw  that  the  High- 
landers were  falling  back.  He  said :  "  What  is  the  matter  there  ?  "  He  was 
told  that  the  band  of  music  had  ceased  playing,  and  he  called  up  the  pipers 
20 


306 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


and  ordered  them  to  strike  an  inspiring  air;  and  no  sooner  did  they  strike 
the  air  than  the  Highlanders  were  rallied  and  helped  to  win  the  day.  Oh,  ye 
who  have  been  routed  in  conflicts  of  life,  try  by  the  force  of  music  to  rally 
your  scattered  battalions. 

MUSICAL  ENTERTAINMENTS  SHOULD-  BE  PATRONIZED. 
I  am  glad  to  know  that  in  our  great  cities  there  is  hardly  a  night  in 
which  there  are  not  concerts,  where,  with  the  best  musical  instruments  and 
the  sweetest  voices,  people  may  find  entertainment.  Patronize  such  entertain- 
ments when  they  are  afforded  you.  Buy  season  tickets  if  you  can,  for  the 
Philharmonic  and  the  Handel  and  Haydn  societies.  Feel  that  the  $1.50  or  $2 
that  you  spend  for  the  purpose    of   hearing  an  artist  play  or  sing    is    a   profit- 


The  Highlanders  AT  WATERLOO, — From  the  Painting  by  Robert  Gibb. 

able  investment.  Let  your  Steinway  Halls  and  your  Academies  of  Music  roar 
with  the  acclamation  of  appreciative  audiences  assembled  at  the  concert  or  the 
oratorio. 

Still  further,  I  commend  as  worthy  of  their  support  the  gymnasium. 
This  institution  is  gaining  in  favor  every  year,  and  I  know  of  nothing  more 
free  from  dissipation  or  more  calculated  ±0  recuperate  the  physical  and  mental 
energies.  While  there  are  a  good  many  people  who  have  employed  this  insti- 
tution, there  is  a  vast  number  who  are  ignorant  of  its  excellence.  There  are 
men  with  cramped  chests  and  weak  sides  and  despondent  sprits,  who,  through 
the  gymnasium,  might  be  roused  up  to  exuberance  and  exhilaration  of  life. 
There    are   many  Christian    people    despondent  from  year  to  year,    who    might, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  307 

through  such  an  institution,  be  benefited  in  their  spiritual  relations.  There 
are  Christian  people  who  seem  to  think  that  it  is  a  good  sign  to  be  poorly ; 
and  because  Richard  Baxter  and  Robert  Hall  were  invalids,  they  think  that 
by  the  same  sickliness  they  may  come  to  the  same  grandeur  of  character.  I 
want  to  tell  the  Christian  people  of  this  country  and  all  countries,  that  God 
will  hold  you  responsible  for  your  invalidism  if  it  is  your  fault,  and  when 
through  right  exercise  and  prudence  you  might  be  athletic  and  well.  The 
effect  of  the  body  upon  the  soul  you  acknowledge.  Put  a  man  of  mild  dispo- 
sition upon  the  animal  diet  of  which  the  Indian  partakes  and  in  a  little  while 
his  blood  will  change  its  chemical  proportions.  It  will  become  like  unto  the 
blood  of  the  lion,  or  the  tiger,  or  the  bear,  while  his  disposition  will  change, 
and  become  fierce,  cruel  and  unrelenting.  The  body  has  powerful  effect  upon 
the  soul. 

There  are  good  people  whose  ideas  of  heaven  are  all  shut  out  with  clouds 
of  tobacco  smoke.  There  are  people  who  dare  to  shatter  the  physical  vase  in 
which  God  has  put  the  jewel  of  eternity.  There  are  men  with  great  hearts 
and  intellects  in  bodies  worn  out  by  their  own  neglects — magnificent  machinery, 
capable  of  propelling  a  Great  Eastern  across  the  Atlantic,  yet  fastened  in  a 
rickety  North  River  propeller.  Martin  Luther  was  so  mighty  for  God,  first, 
because  he  had  a  noble  soul,  and  secondly,  because  he  had  a  muscular  develop- 
ment which  would  have  enabled  him  to  thrash  any  five  of  his  persecutors,  if 
it  had  been  Christian  so  to  do.  Physical  development  which  merely  shows 
itself  in  fabulous  lifting,  or  in  perilous  rope-walking,  or  in  pugilistic  encounter, 
excites  only  our  contempt ;  but  we  confess  to  great  admiration  for  the  man 
who  has  a  great  soul  in  an  athletic  body,  every  nerve,  muscle  and  bone  of 
which  is  consecrated  to  right  uses.  Oh,  it  seems  to  me  outrageous  that  men, 
through  neglect,  should  allow  their  physical  health  to  go  down  beyond  repair. 
A  ship  which  ought,  with  all  sail  set  and  every  man  at  his  post,  to  be  carry- 
ing a  rich  cargo  for  eternity,  employing  all  its  men  in  stopping  up  leakages. 
When  you  may,  through  the  gymnasium,  work  off  your  spleen  and  your 
querulousness  and  one-half  of  your  physical  and  mental  ailments,  do  not  turn 
your  back  upon  such  a  grand  medicament. 

PARLOR   GAMES   COMMENDED. 

Still  further :  I  commend  to  you  a  large  class  of  parlor  games  and  recrea- 
tions. There  is  a  way  of  making  our  homes  a  hundred-fold  more  attractive 
than  they  are  now.  Those  parents  cannot  expect  to  keep  their  children  away 
from  outside  dissipation  unless  they  make  the  domestic  circle  brighter  than 
anything  they  can  find  outside  of  it.  Do  not,  then,  sit  in  your  home  surly 
and  unsympathetic,  and  with  a  half-condemnatory  look,  because  of  the  sportful- 
ness  of  your  children.  You  were  young  once  yourself;  let  your  children  be 
young.  Because  your  eyes  are  dim  and  your  ankles  are  stiff,  do  not  denounce 
sportfulness  in    those  upon  whose    eyes  there    is  the  first  lustre,  and  in  whose 


(308) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


3oy 


foot  there  is  the  bounding  joy  of  robust  health.  I  thank  God  that  in  our 
drawing  rooms  and  in  our  parlors  there  are  innumerable  games  and  sports 
which  have  not  upon  them  the  least  taint  of  iniquity.  Light  up  all  your 
homes  with  innocent  hilarities.  Do  not  sit  down  with  the  rheumatism,  wonder- 
ing how  children  can  go  on  so.  Rather  thank  God  that  their  hearts  are  so 
light,  and  their  laughter  is  so  free,  and  that  their  cheeks  are  so  ruddy,  and 
that  their  expectations  are  so  radiant.  The  night  will  come  soon  enough,  and 
the  heart-break  and  the  pang  and  the  desolation — it  will  come  soon  enough  for 


caught  tripping. — From  the  Painting  by  A.   W.  Bayes. 


the  dear  children.  But  when  the  storm  actually  clouds  the  sky,  it  will  be  time 
enough  for  you  to  haul  out  your  reef  tackles.  Carry,  then,  into  your  homes 
not  only  the  innocent  sports  and  games  which  are  the  inventions  of  our  own 
day,  but  the  games  which  come  down  with  the  sportfulness  of  all  the  past 
ages — chess,  and  charades,  and  tableaux,  and  battledore,  and  calisthenics,  and  lawn- 
tennis,  and  all  those  amusements  which  the  young  people  of  our  homes  know 
so  well  how  to  contrive.  Then  there  will  be  the  parlor  socialities — groups  of 
people  assembled  in    your   homes,  with  wit    and    mimicry  and   joviality,  filling 


3IO  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

the  room  with  joy  from  the  door  to  the  mantel,  and  from  the  carpet  to  the 
ceiling.  Oh,  is  there  any  exhilaration  like  a  score  of  genial  souls  in  one 
room,  each  one  adding  a  contribution  of  his  own  individual  merriment  to  the 
aggregation  of  general  hilarity. 

Suppose  you  want  to  go  abroad  in  the  city,  then  you  will  find  the  panorama 
and  the  art  gallery,  and  exquisite  collections  Of  pictures.  You  will  find  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  and  the  Historical  Society  rooms  full  of  rare  curiosities, 
and  scores  of  places  which  can  stand  plainly  the  test  of  what  is  right  and 
wrong  in  amusements.  You  will  find  the  lecturing  hall,  which  has  been  hon- 
ored by  the  names  of  Agassiz  in  natural  history,  Doremus  in  chemistry,  Boyn- 
ton  in  geology,  Mitchell  in  astronomy,  and  scores  and  hundreds  of  men  who 
have  poured  their  wit  and  genius  and  ingenuity  through  that  particular  chan- 
nel upon  the  hearts  and  consciences  and  imaginations  of  men,  setting  this 
country  fifty    years    farther    in   advance   than   it    would    have    been  without    the 

lecture  platform. 

OUT-DOOR   SPORTS. 

I  rejoice  in  the  popularization  of  out-door  sports.  I  hail  the  croquet  ground, 
and  the  fisherman's  rod,  and  the  sportsman's  gun.  In  our  cities  life  is  so  un- 
healthy and  unnatural  that  when  the  census  taker  represents  a  city  as  having 
400,000  inhabitants,  there  are  only  200,000,  since  it  takes  about  two  men  to 
amount  to  only  one  man,  so  depleting  and  unnerving  and  exhausting  is  this 
metropolitan  life.  We  want  more  fresh  air,  more  sunlight,  more  of  the  abandon 
of  field  sports.  I  cry  out  for  it  in  behalf  of  the  Church  of  God,  as  well  as  in 
behalf  of  secular  interests.  I  wish  that  every  winter  our  ponds,  and  our 
rivers,  and  our  Capitoline  grounds  might  be  all  aquake  with  the  heel  and  the 
shout  of  the  swift  skater.  I  wish  that  when  the  warm  weather  comes,  the 
graceful  oar  might  dip  the  stream,  and  the  eveningtide  be  resonant  with  boat- 
man's song,  the  bright  prow  splitting  the  crystalline  billow.  We  shall  have 
the  smooth  and  grassy  lawn,  and  we  will  call  out  people  of  all  occupations  and 
professions  and  ask  them  to  join  in  the  ball-player's  sport.  You  will  come  back 
from  these  out-door  exercises  and  recreations  with  strength  in  your  arm,  and 
color  in  your  cheek,  and  a  flash  in  your  eye,  and  courage  in  your  heart.  In 
this  great  battle  that  is  opening  against  the  kingdom  of  darkness  we  want  not 
only  a  consecrated  soul,  but  a  strong  arm  and  stout  lungs  and  mighty  muscles. 
I  bless  God  that  there  are  so  many  recreations  that  have  not  on  them  any  taint 
of  iniquity;  recreations  in  which  we  may  engage  for  the  strengthening  of  th- 
body,  for  the  clearing  of  the  intellect,  for  the  illumination  of  the  soul. 

There  is  still  another  form  of  recreation  which  I  commend  to  you,  and 
that  is  the  pleasure  of  doing  good.  I  have  seen  young  men,  weak,  and  cross, 
and  sour,  and  repelling  in  their  disposition,  who  by  one  heavenly  touch  have 
wakened  up  and  become  blessed  and  buoyant,  the  ground  under  their  feet  and 
the  sky  over  their  heads  breaking  forth  into  music.  "  Oh,"  says  some  young 
man  in  the  house  to-day,  "  I  should  like  that  recreation    above    all  others,  but 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


3" 


I  have  not  the  means."  My  dear  brothers,  let  us  take  an  account  of  stock 
this  morning.  You  have  a  large  estate,  if  you  only  realize  it — two  hands, 
two  feet.  You  will  have,  perhaps,  during  the  next  year,  at  least  ten  dollars 
for  charitable  contribution.  You  will  have  2500  cheerful  looks  if  you  want  to 
employ  them.  You  will  have  5000  pleasant  words,  if  you  waut  to  speak  them. 
Now,  what  an  amount  that  is  to  start  with  ! 

You  go  out  to-morrow  morning,  and  you  see  a  case  of  real  destitution  by 
the  wayside.  You  give  him  two  cents.  The  blind  man  hears  the  pennies 
rattle  in  his  hat,  and  he  says :  "  Thank  you,  sir ;  God  bless  you."  You  pass 
down  the  street,  trying  to  look  indifferent,  but  you  feel  from  the  very  depths 
of  your  soul  a  profound  satisfaction  that  you    made  that  man  happy.     You  go 


the  queen's  shilling. — From  the  Painting  by  Phil  Morris. 

on  still  farther,  and  find  a  poor  boy  with  a  wheelbarrow,  trying  to  get  it  up 
on  the  curbstone.  He  fails  in  the  attempt.  You  say:  "Stand  back,  my  lad, 
let  me  try."  You  push  it  up  on  the  curbstone  for  him  and  pass  on.  He 
wonders  who  that  well-dressed  man  was  that  helped  him.  You  did  a  kindness 
to  the  boy,  but  you  did  a  great  joy  to  your  own  soul.  You  will  not  get  over 
it  all  the  week. 

CHEERFUL    LOOKS. 

On  the  street  you  will  see  a  sick  man  passing  along.  "Ah,"  you 
say,  "  what  can  I  do  to  make  this  man  happy  ?  He  certainly  does  not  want 
money ;  he  is  not  poor,  but  he  is  sick."  Give  him  one  of  those  2500  cheerful 
looks  that  you  have  garnered  up  for  the  whole  year.  Look  joy  and  hopeful- 
ness into  his  soul.     It  will  thrill  him  through,  and  there  will  be  a  reaction  upon 


(31-2) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  313 

your  own  soul.  Going  a  little  farther  on  you  will  come  to  the  store  of  a 
friend  who  is  embarrassed  in  business  matters.  You  will  go  in  and  say : 
"  What  a  fine  store  you  have.  I  think  business  will  brighten  up,  and  you 
will  have  more  custom  after  a  while.  I  think  there  is  coming  a  great  pros- 
perity to  all  the  country.  Good  morning."  You  pass  out.  You  have  helped 
that  young  man,  and  you  have  helped  yourself.  And  that  night  you  go 
home ;  you  sit  by  the  fire,  you  talk  a  little,  you  sing  a  little,  you  laugh  a 
little ;  you  say :  "  I  really  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me.  I  never 
felt  so  splendidly  in  my  life."  I  will  tell  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  You 
spent  only  two  cents  out  of  the  ten  dollars ;  you  have  contributed  one  out  of 
2500  cheerful  looks  ;  you  have  given  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  5000  plea- 
sant words  you  are  going  to  speak  during  the  year ;  you  have,  with  your  own 
hands,  helped  the  boy  with  the  wheelbarrow,  and  you  feel  in  body,  mind  and 
soul  the  thrill  of  that  recreation.  Which  do  you  think  was  the  happier — 
Colonel  Gardiner,  who  sat  with  his  elbow  on  a  table  spread  with  all  extrava- 
gant viands,  looking  off  at  a  dog  on  the  rug,  saying,  "  How  I  would  like  to 
change  places  with  him ;  I  be  the  dog  and  he  be  Colonel  Gardiner ; "  or  those 
two  Moravian  missionaries  who  wanted  to  go  into  the  lazaretto  for  the  sake 
of  attending  the  sick,  and  they  were  told :  "  If  you  go  in  there  you  will  never 
come  out.  We  never  allow  any  one  to  come  out,  for  he  would  bring  the  con- 
tagion"? 

Then  they  made  their  wills  and  went  in,  first  to  help  the  sick  and  then 
to  die.  Which  was  the  happier,  Colonel  Gardiner,  or  the  Moravian  missionaries 
dying  for  others  ?  Was  it  all  sacrifice  when  the  missionaries  wanted  to  bring 
the  gospel  to  the  negroes  at  the  Barbadoes,  and,  being  denied  the  privilege, 
sold  themselves  into  slavery,  standing  side  by  side,  and  lying  side  by  side 
down  in  the  very  ditch  of  suffering,  in  order  that  they  might  bring  those  men 
up  to  life  and  God  and  heaven  ?  Oh,  there  is  a  thrill  in  the  joy  of  doing 
good!  It  is  the  most  magnificent  recreation  to  which  a  man  ever  puts  his 
hand,  or  his  head    or  his  heart. 

THE    RESULT    OF    SINFUL    AMUSEMENT. 

But,  furthermore,  I  want  to  impress  upon  you  that  mere  secular  enter- 
tainments are  not  a  fit  foundation  for  your  soul  to  build  on.  I  was  reading 
of  a  woman  who  had  gone  all  the  rounds  of  sinful  amusement,  and  she  came 
to  die.  She  said:  "I  will  die  to-night  at  six  o'clock."  "Oh,"  they  said,  "I 
guess  not;  you  don't  seem  to  be  sick."  "I  shall  die  at  six  o'clock,  and  my 
soul  will  be  lost,  I  know  it  will  be  lost;  I  have  sinned  away  my  day  of  grace." 
The  noon  came.     They  desired  to  seek  religious  counsel. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "it  is  of  no  use.  My  day  is  gone.  I  have  been  all  the 
rounds  of  worldly  pleasure,  and  it  is  too  late.  I  shall  die  to-night  at  six 
o'clock."  The  day  wore  away,  and  it  came  to  four  o'clock,  and  to  five  o'clock, 
and  she  cried  out  at  five  o'clock,  "Destroyed  spirits,  ye  shall  not  have  me  yet; 


(314) 


virginius  killing  his  daughter.— From  the  Sculpture  by  P.  McDowell. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

t 


3*5 


it  is  not  six,  it  is  not  six."  The  moments  went  by,  and  the  shadows  began  to 
gather,  and  the  clock  struck  six;  and  while  it  was  striking  her  soul  went  out. 
What  hour  God  will  call  for  us  I  do  not  know — whether  six  o'clock  to-night, 
or  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  or  at  one  o'clock,  or  at  this  moment.  Sitting 
where  you  are,  falling  forward,  or  standing  where  you  are,  dropping  down 
where  would  you  go  to  ? 

But  our  hour  for  adjourning  is  hastening,  and  the  last  hour  of  our  life 
will  soon  be  here,  and  from  that  hour  we  will  review  our  trials  and  lost  op- 
portunities. It  will  be  a  solemn  hour.  If  from  our  death-pillow  we  have  to 
look  back  and  see  a  life  spent  in  sinful  amusement,  there  will  be  a  dart  that 
will  strike  through  our  soul  sharper  than  the  dagger  with  which  Virginius 
slew  his  child.  The  memory  of  the  past  will  make  us  quake  like  Macbeth. 
The  iniquities  and  rioting  through  which  we  have  passed  will  come  upon  us 
weird  and  skeleton  as  Meg  Merrilles.  Death,  the  old  Shylock,  will  demand  and 
take  the  remaining  pound  of  flesh  and  the  remaining  drop  of  blood ;  and  upon 
our  last  opportunity  for  repentance,  and  our  last  chance  for  heaven,  the  curtain 
will  forever  drop. 


Cfytoren. 


COUNSEL  UPON   PARENTAL   DUTY    AND    RESPON- 
SIBILITY— SEVERITY   AND   OVER-INDULGENCE. 

GOOD  man  was  Judge  Eli,  as  described  in  the  Book 
Samuel,  but  he  let  his  two  boys,  Hophni  and 
Phinehas,  do  as  they  pleased,  and  through  over- 
indulgence they  went  to  ruin.  The  blind  old 
Judge,  ninety-eight  years  of  age,  is  seated  at  the 
gate  waiting  for  the  news  of  an  important 
battle  in  which  his  two  sons  were  at  the 
front.  An  express  is  coming  with  tidings 
from  the  battle.  This  blind  nonagenarian 
puts  his  hand  behind  his  ear,  and  listens, 
and  cries :  "  What  meaneth  the  noise  of  this  tu- 
mult ?"  An  excited  messenger,  all  out  of  breath 
with  the  speed,  said  to  him :  "  Our  army  is  de- 
feated. The  sacred  chest,  called  the  Ark,  is  captured, 
and  your  sons  are  dead  on  the  field."  No  wonder  the 
father  fainted  and  expired.  The  domestic  tragedy  in 
which  these  two  sons  were  the  tragedians  had  finished 
its  fifth  and  last  act.  "  He  fell  from  off  the  seat  back- 
ward by  the  side  of  the  gate,  and  his  neck  brake,  and 
he  died :  for  he  was  an  old  man,  and  heavy."  Eli  had 
made  an  awful  mistake  in  regard  to  his  children.  The 
Bible  distinctly  says :  "  His  sons  made  themselves  vile 
and  he  restrained  them  not."  Oh,  the  10,000  mistakes 
in  rearing  children,  mistakes  of  parents,  mistakes  of 
teachers  in  day-school  and  Sabbath-classes,  mistakes  which  we  all  make.  Will 
it  not  be  useful  to  consider  them? 


THE   ALL-CONQUERING   ARMY. 

This  country  is  going  to  be  conquered  by  a  great  army,  compared  with 
which  that  of  Baldwin  I.,  and  Xerxes,  and  Alexander,  and  Grant,  and  Lee,  all 
put  together,  were  in  numbers  insignificant.  They  will  capture  all  the  pulpits, 
storehouses,  factories  and  halls  of  legislation,  all  our  shipping,  all  our  wealth, 
and    all    our    honors.     They    will    take    possession    of   all    authority,  from    the 

(316)* 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


3i7 


United  States  presidency  down  to  the  humblest  constabulary — of  everything 
between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans.  They  are  on  the  march  now,  and 
they  halt  neither  day  nor  night.  They  will  soon  be  here,  and  all  the  present 
active  population  of  this  country  must  surrender  and  give  way.  I  refer  to  the 
great  army  of  children.  Whether  they  shall  take  possession  of  everything  fo. 
good  or  for  bad  depends  upon  the  style  of  preparation  through  which  they 
pass  on  their  way  from  cradle  to  throne.  Cicero  acknowledges  he  kept  in  his 
desk  a  collection  of  prefaces  for  books,  which  prefaces  he  could  at  any  time 
attach  to  anything  he  wanted  to  publish  for  himself  or  others ;  and  all  parents 


Thb  first  step. — From  the  Painting  by  Frank  Pen/old. 

and  teachers  have  all  prepared  the  preface  of  every  young  life  under  theii 
charge,  and  not  only  the  preface,  but  the  appendix,  whether  the  volume  be  a 
poem  or  a  farce.  Families,  and  schools,  and  legislatures  are  in  our  day  busily 
engaged  in  discussing  what  is  the  best  mode  of  educating  children.  Before  this 
question  almost  every  other  dwindles  into  insignificance,  while  dependent  upon 
its  proper  solution  is  the  welfare  of  government  and  ages  eternal.  Macaulay 
t'*lls  of  the  war  which  Frederick  II.  made  against  Queen  Maria  Theresa.  And 
one  day  she  appeared  before  the  august  Diet  wearing  mourning  for  her  father, 


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(318 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


319 


and  held  up  in  her  arms  before  them  her  child,  the  Archduke.  This  so 
wrought  upon  the  officers  and  deputies  of  the  people  that  with  half-drawn 
swords  they  broke  forth  in  the  war  cry ;  "  Let  us  die  for  our  Queen,  Maria 
Theresa  ! " 

So  realizing  that  the  boy  of  to-day  is  to  be  the  ruler  of  the  future,  the 
popular  sovereign,  I  hold  him 
before  the  American  people  to 
arouse  their  enthusiasm  in  his 
behalf,  and  to  evoke  their  oath 
for  his  defense,  his  education, 
and  his  sublime  destiny. 

If  a  parent,  you  will  remem- 
ber when  you  were  aroused  to 
these  great  responsibilities,  and 
when  you  found  that  you  had 
not  done  all  required  after  you 
had  admired  the  tiny  hands,  and 
the  glossy  hair,  and  the  bright 
eyes  that  lay  in  the  cradle. 
You  suddenly  remembered  that 
that  hand  would  yet  be  raised 
to  bless  the  world  with  its  ben- 
ediction, or  to  smite  it  with  a 
curse. 

In  Ariosto's  great  poem  there 
is  a  character  called  Ruggiero, 
who  has  a  shield  of  insufferable 
splendor,  but  it  is  kept  veiled, 
save  on  certain  occasions,  and 
when  uncovered  it  startled  and 
overwhelmed  its  beholder,  who 
before  had  no  suspicion  of  its 
brightness.  My  hope  here  is  to 
uncover  the  destiny  of  your  child 
or  student,  about  which  you  may 
have  no  especial  appreciation, 
and  flash  upon  you  the  splendors 
of  its  immortal  nature.  Behold 
the  shield  and  the  sword  of  its 
coming  conflict. 

I  propose  in  this  essay  to  set  forth  what  I  consider  to  be  some  of  the  errors 
prevalent  in  the  training  of  children. 

First,  I  remark  that  many  err  in  too  great    severity  or  too  great  leniency 


THE  GODDESS  OF  THE  BARNYARD. 


32o 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


of  family  government.  Between  parental  tyranny  and  ruinous  laxativeness  of 
discipline  there  is  a  medium.  Sometimes  the  father  errs  on  one  side  and  the 
mother  on  the  other  side.  Good  family  government  is  all-important.  Anarchy 
and  misrule  in  the  domestic  circle  is  the  forerunner  of  anarchy  and  misrule  in 
the  state.  What  a  repulsive  spectacle  is  a  home  without  order  or  discipline  ; 
disobedience  and  impudence,  and  auger,  and  falsehood  lifting  their  horrid  front 
in  the  place  which  should  be  consecrated  to  all  that  is  holy  and  peaceful  and 
beautiful.     In  the  attempt  to  avoid  all  this,  and  bring  the  children  under  proper 


the  chimney  sweep. — From  the  Painting  by  F.  D.  Hardy. 

laws    and    regulations,  parents    have    sometimes    carried    themselves  with    gren* 
rigor.     John  Howard,  who  was  merciful  to  the  prisons  and  lazarettos,  was  mere: 
less  in  the  treatment  of  his  children. 


john  milton's  domestic  blunders. 

John  Milton  knew  everything  but  how  to  train  his  family.  Severe  and 
unreasonable  was  he  in  his  carriage  toward  them.  He  made  them  read  to  him 
in  four  or  five  languages,  but  would  not  allow  them  to  learn  any  of  them,  for 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  321 

he  said  that  one  tongue  was  enough  for  a  woman.  Their  reading  was  mechanical 
drudgery,  when,  if  they  had  understood  the  languages  they  read,  the  employment 
of  reading  might  have  been  a  luxury.  No  wonder  his  children  despised  him, 
and  stealthily  sold  his  books,  and  hoped  for  his  death.  In  all  ages  there  has 
been  need  of  a  society  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  children.  When  Barbara 
was  put  to  death  by  her  father  because  she  had  countermanded  his  order,  and 
had  three  windows  put  in  a  room  instead  of  two,  this  cruel  parent  was  a  type 
of  many  who  have  acted  the  Nero  and  the  Robespierre  in  the  home  circle. 
The  heart  sickens  at  what  you  sometimes  see,  even  in  families  that  pretend 
to  be  Christian — perpetual  scolding,  and  hair  pulling,  and  ear-boxing,  and  thump- 
ing, and  stamping,  and  fault-finding,  and  teasing,  until  the  children  are  vexed 
beyond  bounds  and  growl  in  the  sleeve,  and  pout,  and  rebel,  and  vow  within 
themselves  that  in  after-days  they  will  retaliate  for  the  cruelties  practised. 
Many  a  home  has  become  as  full  of  dispute  as  was  the  home  of  John  O'Groat, 
who  built  his  house  at  the  most  northerly  point  in  Great  Britain.  And  tradi- 
tion says  that  the  house  had  eight  windows  and  eight  doors,  and  a  table  of 
eight  sides,  because  he  had  eight  children,  and  the  only  way  to  keep  them  out 
of  bitter  quarrel  was  to  have  a  separate  apartment  for  each  one  of  them. 

That  child's  nature  is  too  delicate  to  be  worked  upon  by  sledge-hammer 
and  gouge  and  pile-driver.  Such  fierce  lashing,  instead  of  breaking  the  high 
mettle  to  bit  and  trace,  will  make  it  dash  off  the  more  uncontrollable.  Many 
seem  to  think  that  children  are  flax — not  fit  to  use  till  they  have  been 
hackled  and  swingled.  Some  one  talking  to  a  child  said :  "  I  wonder  what 
makes  that  tree  out  there  so  crooked?"  The  child  replied:  "I  suppose  it 
was  trod  on  while  it  was  young." 

THE   FAMILY   SCAPEGOAT. 

Jn  some  families  all  the  discipline  is  concentrated  upon  one  child's  head. 
If  anything  is  done  wrong  the  supposition  is  that  George  did  it.  He  broke 
the  latch.  He  left  open  the  gate.  He  hacked  the  banisters.  He  whittled 
sticks  on  the  carpets.  And  George  shall  be  the  scapegoat  for  all  domestic 
misunderstandings  and  suspicions.  If  things  get  wrong  in  the  culinary  depart- 
ment, in  comes  the  mother  and  says,  angrily:  "Where  is  George?"  If  busi- 
ness matters  are  perplexing  at  the  store,  in  comes  the  father  at  night  and  says, 
angrily  :  "  Where  is  George  ?  "  In  many  a  household  there  is  such  a  one 
singled  out  for  suspicion  and  castigation.  All  the  sweet  flowers  of  his  soul 
blasted  under  this  perpetual  north-east  storm.  He  curses  the  day  in  which 
he  was  born.  Safer  tht  child  in  an  ark  of  bulrushes  on  the  Nile,  among 
crocodiles,  than  in  an  elegant  mansion,  amid  such  domestic  Gorgons.  A  mothei 
was  passing  along  the  street  one  day  and  came  up  to  her  little  child,  who  did 
not  see  her  approach,  and  her  child  was  saying  to  her  playmate :  "You  good- 
for-nothing  little  scamp,  you  come  right  into  the  house  this  minute,  or  I  will  beat 
you  till  the  skin  comes  off."      The  mother  broke  in,  saying  :      "  Why,  Lizzie, 


>'■:".'  I  '■  ■  X,-J^,!i-H'  >.■■  -i 


(322) 


THE  reckless  pupil. — Frnm  the  Painting  by  W.  Schutze. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  323 

I  am  surprised  to  hear  you  talk  like  that  to  any  one  ?  "  "  Oh,"  said  the  child. 
"  I  was  only  playing,  and  he  is  my  little  boy,  and  I  am  scolding  him,  as  you 
did  me  this  morning."     Children  are  apt  to  be  echoes  of  their  parents. 

Safer  in  a  Bethlehem  manger  among  cattle  and  camels,  with  gentle  Mary 
to  watch  the  little  innocent,  than  in  the  most  extravagant  nursery  over  which 
God's  star  of  peace  never  stood.  The  trapper  extinguishes  the  flames  on  the 
prairie  by  fighting  fire  with  fire,  but  you  cannot,  with  the  fire  of  your  own 
disposition,  put  out  the  fire  of  a  child's  disposition. 

DANGERS   OF  OVER-INDULGENCE. 

Yet  we  may  rush  to  the  other  extreme  and  ruin  children  by  too  great  leni- 
ency. The  surgeon  is  not  unkind  because,  notwithstanding  the  resistance  of 
his  patient,  he  goes  straight  on  with  firm  hand  and  unfaltering  heart  to  take 
off  the  gangrene.  Nor  is  the  parent  less  affectionate  and  faithful  because,  not- 
withstanding all  violent  remonstrances  on  the  part  of  the  child,  he,  with  the 
firmest  discipline,  advances  to  the  cutting  off  of  the  evil  inclinations.  The 
Bible  says :  "  Chasten  thy  son  while  there  is  hope,  and  let  not  thy  soul  spare 
for  his  crying." 

Childish  rage  unchecked  will,  after  a  while,  become  a  hurricane.  Childish 
petulance  will  grow  up  into  misanthropy.  Childish  rebellion  will  develop  into 
the  lawlessness  of  riot  and  sedition.  If  you  would  ruin  the  child,  dance  to  his 
every  caprice  and  stuff  him  with  confectionery.  Before  you  are  aware  of  it  that 
boy  of  six  years  will  go  down  the  street,  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  ready  on 
any  corner  with  his  comrades  to  compare  pugilistic  attainments.  The  parent 
who  allows  the  child  to  grow  up  without  ever  having  learned  the  great  duty 
of  obedience  and  submission  has  prepared  a  cup  of  burning  gall  for  his  own 
lips  and  appalling  destruction  for  his  descendant.  Remember  Eli  and  his  two 
sons,  Hophni  and  Phinehas. 

A  second  error  prevalent  in  the  training  of  children  is  the  laying  out  of 
a  theory  and  following  it  without  arranging  it  to  varieties  of  disposition.  In 
every  family  you  will  find  striking  differences  of  temperament.  This  child  is 
too  timid,  and  that  too  bold;  and  this  too  miserly,  and  that  too  wasteful;  this 
too  inactive,  and  that  too  boisterous.  Now,  the  farmer,  who  should  plant  corn 
and  wheat  and  turnips  in  just  the  same  way,  then  put  them  through  one 
hopper  and  grind  them  in  the  same  mill,  would  not  be  so  much  of  a  fool  as 
the  parents  who  would  attempt  to  discipline  and  educate  all  their  children  in 
the  same  manner.  It  needs  a  skilful  hand  to  adjust  these  checks  and  balances. 
The  rigidity  of  government  which  is  necessary  to  hold  in  this  impetuous  nature 
would  utterly  crush  that  flexible  disposition,  while  the  gentle  reproof  that 
would  suffice  for  the  latter  would,  when  used  on  the  former,  be  like  attempting 
to  hold  a  champing  Bucephalus  with  reins  of  gossamer. 


(324) 


THE  MISCHIEF  MAKER. 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  325 

god's  hints  to  parents. 

God  gives  us,  in  the  disposition  of  each  child,  a  hint  as  to  how  we  ought 
to  train  him,  and,  as  God,  in  the  mental  structure  of  our  children,  indicates 
what  mode  of  training  is  the  best,  He  also  indicates,  in  the  disposition,  their 
future  occupation.  Do  not  write  down  that  child  as  dull  because  it  may  not 
now  be  as  brilliant  as  your  other  children  or  as  those  of  your  neighbor.  Some 
of  the  mightiest  men  and  women  of  the  centuries  had  a  stupid  childhood. 
Thomas  Aquinas  was  called  at  school  "  the  dumb  ox,"  but  afterward  demon- 
strated his  sanctified  genius  and  was  called  "the  angel  of  the  schools"  and 
''  the  eagle  of  Brittany."  Kindness  and  patience  with  a  child  will  conquer 
almost  anything,  and  they  are  virtues  so  Christ-like  that  they  are  inspiring  to 
look  at.  John  Wesley's  kiss  of  a  child  on  the  pulpit  stairs  turned  Mathias 
Joyce  from  a  profligate  into  a  flaming  evangel. 

The  third  error  prevalent  in  the  training  of  children  is  the  one-sided 
development  of  either  the  physical,  intellectual  or  moral  nature  at  the  expense 
of  the  others.  Those,  for  instance,  greatly  mistake  who,  while  they  are  faithful  in 
the  intellectual  and  moral  culture  of  children,  forget  the  physical.  The  bright 
eyes  half-quenched  by  night  study,  the  cramped  chest  that  comes  from  too 
much  bending  over  school-desks,  the  weak  side  resulting  from  sedentariness  of 
habit,  pale  cheeks  and  the  gaunt  bodies  of  multitudes  of  children  attest  that 
physical  development  does  not  always  go  along  with  intellectual  and  moral. 

TREASURES   IN   A   SHATTERED   CASKET. 

How  do  you  suppose  all  those  treasures  of  knowledge  the  child  gets  will 
look  in  shattered  caskets  ?  And  how  much  will  you  give  for  the  wealthiest 
cargo  when  it  is  put  in  a  leaky  ship  ?  How  can  that  bright,  sharp  blade  of 
a  child's  attainments  be  wielded  without  any  handle  ?  What  are  brains  worth 
without  shoulders  to  carry  them  ?  What  is  a  child  with  magnificent  mind  but 
an  exhausted  body  ?  Better  that  a  young  man  of  twenty-one  go  forth  in  the 
world  without  knowing  A  from  Z,  if  he  have  health  of  body  and  energy  to 
push  his  way  through  the  world,  than  at  twenty-one  to  enter  upon  active  life, 
his  head  stuffed  with  Socrates,  and  Herodotus,  and  Bacon,  and  La  Place,  but 
no  physical  force  to  sustain  him  in  the  shock  of  earthly  conflicts.  From  this 
infinite  blunder  of  parents  how  many  have  come  out  in  life  with  a  genius 
that  could  have  piled  Ossa  upon  Pelion  and  mounted  upon  them  to  scale  the 
heavens,  and  have  laid  down  panting  with  physical  exhaustion  before  a  mole- 
hill. They  who  might  have  thrilled  senates  and  marshalled  armies  and 
startled  the  world  with  the  shock  of  their  scientific  batteries,  have  passed 
their  lives  in  picking  up  prescriptions  for  indigestion.  They  owned  all  the 
thunderbolts  of  Jupiter,  but  could  not  get  out  of  their  rocking-chair  to  use 
them.  George  Washington  in  early  life  was  a  poor  speller,  and  spelled  hat 
"  h-a-double-t,"  and  a  ream  of  paper  he  spelled  "  rheam,"  but  he  knew  enough 
to  spell    out   the    independence    of   this    country  from  foreign  oppression.     The 


(326) 


INDULGENCE — THE   RIVAL   GRANDFATHERS. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  327 

knowledge   of  the  schools   is   important,  but    there    are   other   things   quite   as 
important. 

Just  as  great  is  the  wrong  done  when  the  mind  is  cultivated  and  the  heart 
neglected.  The  youth  of  this  day  are  seldom  denied  any  scholarly  attainments. 
Our  schools  and  seminaries  are  ever  growing  in  efficiency,  and  the  students  are 
conducted  through  all  the  realms  of  philosophy,  and  art,  and  language,  and 
mathematics.  The  most  hereditary  obtuseness  gives  way  before  the  onslaught 
of  adroit  instructors. 

RELIGIOUS   RESTRAINT   ESSENTIAL. 

But  there  is  a  development  of  infinite  importance  which  mathematics  and 
the  dead  languages  cannot  effect.  The  more  mental  power  the  more  capacity 
for  evil,  unless  coupled  with  religious  restraint.  You  discover  what  terrible 
power  for  evil  unsanctified  genius  possesses  when  you  see  Scaliger,  with  his 
scathing  denunciations,  assaulting  the  best  men  of  his  time ;  and  Blount,  and 
Spinoza,  and  Bolingbroke  leading  their  hosts  of  followers  into  the  all-consum- 
ing fires  of  skepticism  and  infidelity.  Whether  knowledge  is  a  mighty  good 
or  an  unmitigated  evil  depends  entirely  upon  which  course  it  takes.  The  river 
rolling  on  between  sound  banks  makes  all  the  valley  laugh  with  golden  wheat 
and  rank  grass,  and,  catching  hold  the  wheel  of  mill  and  factory,  whirls  it 
with  great  industries.  But,  breaking  away  from  restraints  and  dashing  over 
banks  in  red  wrath,  it  washes  away  harvests  from  their  moorings  and  makes 
the  valleys  shrink  with  the  catastrophe.  Fire  in  the  furnace  heats  the  house 
or  drives  the  steamer;  but,  uncontrolled,  warehouses  go  down  in  awful  crash 
before  it,  and  in  a  few  hours  half  a  city  will  lie  in  black  ruin,  walls,  and 
towers,  and  churches,  and  monuments.  You  must  accompany  the  education  of 
the  intellect  with  the  education  of  the  heart,  or  you  are  rousing  up  within 
your  child  an  energy  which  will  be  blasting  and  terrific.  Better  a  wicked 
dunce  than  a  wicked  philosopher. 

The  fourth  error  often  committed  in  the  training  of  children  is  the  sup- 
pression of  childish  sportfulness.  The  most  triumphant  death  of  any  child 
that  I  ever  knew  Avas  that  of  Scoville  Haynes  McCollum.  A  few  days  before 
that  he  was  at  my  house  in  Syracuse,  and  he  ran  like  a  deer  and  his  halloo 
made  the  woods  echo.  You  could  hear  him  coming  a  block  off,  so  full  was  he 
of  romp  and  laughter  and  whistle.  Don't  put  religion  on  your  child  as  a 
strait-jacket.  Parents  after  having  for  a  good  many  years  been  jostled  about 
in  the  rough  world,  often  lose  their  vivacity,  and  are  astonished  to  see  how 
their  children  can  act  so  thoughtlessly  of  the  earnest  world  all  about  them. 
That  is  a  cruel  parent  who  quenches  any  of  the  light  in  a  child's  soul.  In- 
stead of  arresting  its  sportfulness,  go  forth  and  help  him  trundle  the  hoop, 
and  fly  the  kite,  and  build  the  snow  castle.  Those  shoulders  are  too  little  to 
carry  a  burden,  that  brow  is  too  young  to  be  wrinkled,  those  feet  are  too 
sprightly  to  go  along  at  a  funeral  pace.     God  bless  their  young  hearts ! 


32S 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


LET  THE  CHILDREN  ROMP. 
Now  is  the  time  for  them  to  be  sportful.  Let  them  romp  and  sing  and 
laugh,  and  go  with  a  rush  and  a  hurrah.  In  this  way  they  gather  up  a  sur- 
plus of  energy  for  future  life.  For  the  child  that  walks  around  with  a  scowl, 
dragging  his  feet  as  though  they  were  weights  and  sitting  down  by  the  hour 
>n  moping  and  grumbling  I  prophesy  a  life  of  utter  inanition  an!  discontent. 
Hush  the  robins  in  the  air  till  they  become  silent  as  a  bat,  and  lecture  the 
frisking  lambs  on  the  hillside  until  they  walk  like  old  sheep,  rather  than  put 
exhilarant  childhood  in  the  stocks. 

The  fifth    error  in  the  training    of  childhood    is  the    postponement    of   its 
moral  culture  until  too  late.     Multitudes  of  children  because  of  their  precocity 

have  been  urged  into  depths  of  study 
where  the}'  ought  not  to  go,  and  their 
intellects  have  been  overburdened  and 
overstrained  and  battered  to  pieces  against 
Latin  grammars  and  algebras,  and  coming 
forth  into  practical  life  they  will  hardly 
rise  to  mediocrity  ;  and  there  is  now  a 
stuffing  and  cramming  system  of  educa- 
tion in  the  schools  of  our  country  that 
is  deathful  to  the  teachers  who  have  tc 
enforce  it,  and  destructive  to  the  children 
who  must  submit  to  the  process.  You 
find  children  at  nine  and  ten  years  of 
age  with  school  lessons  only  appropriate 
for  children  of  fifteen.  If  children  are 
kept  in  school  and  studying  from  nine 
to  three  o'clock,  no  home  study  except 
music  ought  to  be  required  of  them. 
Six  hours  of  study  is  enough  for  any  child. 
The  rest  of  the  day  ought  to  be  devoted  to 
recreation  and  pure  fun.  But  you  cannot 
begin  too  early  the  moral  culture  of  a  child  or  on  too  coniplete  a  scale.  You 
can  look  back  upon  your  own  life  and  remember  what  mighty  impressions 
were  made  upon  you  at  five  or  six  years  of  age.  Oh,  that  child  does  not  sit 
60  silent  during  your  conversation  to  be  uninfluenced  by  it.  You  say  he  does 
not  understand.  Although  much  of  your  phraseology  is  beyond  his  grasp,  he 
is  gathering  up  from  your  talk  influences  which  will  affect  his  immortal  destiny. 
From  the  question  he  asks  you  long  afterward  you  find  he  understood  all  about 
ivhat  you  were  saying.  You  think  the  child  does  not  appreciate  that  beautiful 
:loud,  but  its  most  delicate  lines  are  reflected  into  the  very  depths  of  the 
youthful  nature,  and  a  score  of  years  from  now  you  will  see  the  shadow  of 
rhat  cloud  in  the  tastes  and  refinements  developed.     The  song  with  which  you 


"OUR    J-ATHER    WHICH    ART   IN    HEAVEN.' 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


329 


sing  that  child  to  sleep  will  echo  through  all  its  life,  and  ring  back  from  the 
very  arches  of  heaven.  I  think  that  often  the  first  seven  years  of  a  child's 
life  decide  whether  it  shall  be  irascible,  waspish,  rude,  false,  hypocritical,  or 
gentle    truthful,  frank,  obedient,  honest  and  Christian. 


THE    BEAUTY    OF    EARLY    PIETY. 

The  present  generations  of  men  will  pass  off  very  much  as  they  are  now. 
Although  the  gospel  is  offered  them,  the  general  rule  is  that  drunkards  die 
druukards,  thieves  die  thieves,  libertines  die  libertines.  Therefore,  to  the  youth 
we  turn.  Before  they  sow  wild  oats  get  them  to  sow  wheat  and  barley.  You 
fill  the  bushel  measure  with  good  corn 
and  there  will  be  no  room  for  husks. 
Glorious  Alfred  Cookman  was  converted 
at  ten  years  of  age  At  Carlisle,  Pa., 
during  the  progress  of  a  religious  meet- 
ing in  a  Methodist  church,  while 
many  were  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the 
altar,  this  boy  knelt  in  a  corner  of  the 
church,  all  by  himself,  and  said :  "  Pre- 
cious Saviour,  thou  art  saving  others, 
oh,  will  thou  not  save  me?"  A  Presby- 
terian elder  knelt  beside  him  and  led 
him  into  the  light.  Enthroned  Alfred 
Cookman  !  Tell  me  from  the  skies, 
were  you  converted  too  early  ?  But  I 
cannot  hear  his  answer.  It  is  overpow- 
ered by  the  huzzas  of  the  tens  of  thou- 
sands who  were  brought  to  God  through 
his  ministry.  Isaac  Watts,  the  great 
Christian  poet,  was  converted  at  nine 
years  of  age.  Robert  Hall,  the  great 
Baptist  evangelist,  was  converted  at  twelve 
years  of  age.  Jonathan  Edwards,  the  greatest  of  American  logicians,  was 
converted  at  seven  years  of  age. 

Oh,  for  one  generation  of  holy  men  and  women.  Shall  it  be  the  next  ? 
Fathers  and  mothers,  you,  under  God,  are  to  decide  whether  from  your  families 
shall  go  forth  cowards,  inebriates,  counterfeiters,  blasphemers,  and  whether 
there  shall  be  those  bearing  your  image  and  carrying  your  name  festering  in 
the  low  haunts  of  vice,  and  floundering  in  dissipation,  and  making  the  mid- 
night of  their  lives  horrid  with  a  long  howl  of  ruin,  or  whether  from  j'our 
family  altars  shall  come  the  Christian,  the  reformers,  the  teachers,  the  minis- 
ters of  Christ,  the  comforters  of  the  troubled,  the  healers  of  the  sick,  the 
enacters  of  good  laws,  the  founders  of  charitable  institutions,  and  a  great  many 


'GIVE    US   THIS    DAY   OUR    DAILY   BREAD. 


33° 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


who  shall  in  the  humbler  spheres  of  toil  and   usefulness    serve    God    and   the 
best  interests  of  the  human  race. 


EARLY   AT   THE   CROSS. 


You  cannot  as  parents  shirk  the  responsibility.  God  has  charged  you 
with  a  mission,  and  all  the  thrones  of  heaven  are  waiting  to  see  whether  you 
will  do  your  duty.     We  must  not  forget  that  it  is  not  so  much  what  we  teach 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  331 

our  children,  as  what  we  are  in  their  presence.  We  wish  them  to  be  better 
than  we  are,  but  the  probability  is  that  they  will  only  be  reproductions  of  our 
own  character.  German  literature  has  much  to  say  of  the  "  Spectre  of 
Brocken."  Among  those  mountains  travellers  in  certain  conditions  of  the 
atmosphere  see  themselves  copied  on  a  gigantic  scale  in  the  clouds.  At  first 
the  travellers  do  not  realize  that  it  is  themselves  on  a  larger  scale.  When 
they  lift  a  hand'  or  move  the  head  this  monster  spectre  does  the  same,  and 
with  such  enlargement  of  proportions  that  the  scene  is  most  exciting,  and 
thousands  have  gone  to  that  place  just  to  behold  the  spectre  of  Brocken.  The 
probability  is  that  some  of  our  faults  which  we  consider  small  and  insignificant, 
if  we  do  not  put  an  end  to  them,  will  be  copied  on  a  larger  scale  in  the  lives 
of  @ur  children,  and  perhaps  dilated  and  exaggerated  into  spectral  proportions. 
You  need  not  go  as  far  off  as  the  Brocken  to  see  that  process.  The  first 
thing  in  importance  in  the  education  of  our  children  is  to  make  ourselves,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  fit  examples  to  be  copied.  The  day  will  come  when  you 
must  confront  that  child,  not  in  the  church  pew  on  a  calm  Sabbath,  but  amid 
the  consternation  of  the  rising  dead,  and  the  flying  heavens  and  a  burning 
world.  From  your  side  that  son  or  daughter,  bone  of  your  bone,  heart  of  your 
heart,  the  father's  brow  his  brow,  the  mother's  eye  his  eye,  shall  go  forth  to 
an  eternal  destiny.  What  will  be  your  joy  if  at  last  you  hear  their  feet  in 
the  same  golden  highway  and  hear  their  voices  in  the  same  rapturous  song, 
illustrations,  while  the  eternal  ages  last,  of  what  a  faithful  parent  could,  under 
God,  accomplish. 

THE   DYING   MOTHER'S   REQUEST. 

I  was  reading  of  a  mother  who,  dying,  had  all  her  children  about  her, 
and  took  each  one  of  them  by  the  hand  and  asked  them  to  meet  her  in 
heaven,  and  with  tears  and  sobs,  such  as  those  only  know  who  have  stood  by 
the  death-bed  of  a  good  old  mother,  they  all  promised.  But  there  was  a 
young  man  of  nineteen  who  had  been  very  wild,  and  reckless,  and  hard,  and 
proud,  and  when  she  took  his  hand,  she  said :  "  Now,  my  boy,  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  before  I  die  that  you  will  become  a  Christian  and  meet  me  in 
heaven."  The  young  man  made  no  answer,  for  there  was  so  much  for  him  to 
give  up  if  he  made  and  kept  such  a  promise.  But  the  aged  mother  persisted 
in  saying:  "You  won't  deny  me  that  before  I  go,  will  you?  This  parting 
must  not  be  forever.  Tell  me  now  you  will  serve  God  and  meet  me  in  the 
land  where  there  is  no  parting."  Quaking  with  emotion,  he  stood  making  up 
his  mind,  and  halting,  and  hesitating,  but  at  last  his  stubbornness  yielded, 
and  he  threw  his  arms  around  his  mother's  neck  and  said :  "  Yes,  mother ; 
I  will,  I  will."  And  as  he  finished  the  last  word  of  his  promise  her  spirit 
ascended.  I  thank  God  the  young  man  kept  his  promise.  Yes,  he  kept  it. 
May  God  give  all  mothers  and  fathers  the  gladness  of  their  children's 
salvation. 


Jrsus. 


A    DESCRIPTION    OF    CHRIST'S    SACRIFICES    AND    THE*  MARVELLOUS    MAGNIFICENCE 

OF   HEAVEN. 

T  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  all  the  worlds  which  on  a 
cold  winter's  night  make  the  heavens  one  great  glit- 
ter   are    inhabitautless.       Philosophers    tell    us    that 
many  of  these  worlds  are  too  hot,  or  too  cold,  or  too 
rarefied  of  atmosphere  for  residence.     But  if  not  fit 
for  human  abode,  they  may  be  fit  for  beings  different 
from  and  superior  to    ourselves.     We    are    told    that 
the  world  of  Jupiter  is  changing   until   it  is   almost 
fit  for  creatures  like  the  human  race,  and  that  Mars 
would    do    for  the    human   family,  with    a   little    change    in    the 
structure  of  the  respiratory  organs.     But    that    there  is  a  great 
world   swung   somewhere,  vast   beyond  imagination,  and  that  it 
is  the  headquarters  of  the  universe,  and  the  metropolis  of  im- 
mensity, and  has  a  population  in  numbers  vast  beyond  all  sta- 
tistics,  and    appointments    of   splendor    beyond    the    capacity  of 
canvas,  or  poem,  or  angel  to  describe,  is  as  certain  as  the  Bible 
is  authentic.     Perhaps  some  of  the    astronomers  with    their  big 
telescopes  have    already  caught    a    glimpse    of  it,  not    knowing 
what  it    is.     We   spell   it  with   six  letters,   and    pronounce  it — 


Heaven. 


A    GLIMPSE   OF   HEAVEN. 


That  is  where  Prince  Jesus  lived  nineteen  centuries  ago.  He  was  the 
King's  son.  It  was  the  old  homestead  of  eternity,  and  all  its  castles  were  as 
old  as  God.  Not  a  frost  had  ever  chilled  the  air.  Not  a  tear  had  ever  rolled 
down  the  cheek  of  one  of  its  inhabitants.  There  had  never  been  in  it  a  head- 
ache, or  a  sideache,  or  a  heartache.  There  had  not  been  a  funeral  in  the 
memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant.  There  had  never  in  all  the  land  been  woven 
a  black  veil,  for  there  had  never  been  anything  to  mourn  over.  The  passage 
of  millions  of  years  had  not  wrinkled  or  crippled  or  bedimmed  any  of  its  citi- 
zens. All  the  people  there  were  in  a  state  of  eternal  adolescence.  What  floral 
and  pomonic  richness !  Gardens  of  perpetual  bloom  and  orchards  in  unending 
fruitage.  Had  some  spirit  from  another  world  entered  and  asked,  "What  is 
sin  ?  What  is  bereavement?  What  is  sorrow?  What  is  death  ?"  the  brightest  of 
the    intelligences    would    have    failed    to    give    definition,  though    to   study  the 

(332) 


(333) 


J34  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

question  there  were  silence  in  heaven  for  half  an  hour.  The  Prince  of  whom 
I  spoke  had  honors,  emoluments,  acclamations,  such  as  no  other  Prince,  celes- 
tial or  terrestrial,  ever  enjoyed.  As  He  passed  the  street,  the  inhabitants  took 
off  from  their  brows  garlands  of  white  lilies  and  threw  them  in  the  way.  He 
never  entered  any  of  the  temples  without  all  the  worshippers  rising  up  and 
bowing  in  obeisance.  In  all  the  processions  of  the  high  days  He  was  the  one 
who  evoked  the  loudest  welcome.  Sometimes  on  foot,  walking  in  loving  talk 
with  the  humblest  of  the  land,  but  at  other  times  He  took  chariot,  and  among 
the  20,000  that  David  spoke  of  His  was  the  swiftest  and  most  flaming ;  or,  as 
when  John  described  Him,  He  took  white  palfrey,  with  what  prance  of  foot,  and 
arch  of  neck,  and  roll  of  mane,  and  gleam  of  eye,  is  only  dimly  suggested  in 
the  Apocalypse.  He  was  not  like  other  princes,  waiting  for  the  Father  to  die 
and  then  take  the  throne.  When,  a  few  years  ago,  an  artist  in  Germany  made 
a  picture  for  the  Royal  Gallery,  representing  Emperor  William  on  the  throne 
and  the  Crown  Prince  as  having  one  foot  on  the  step  of  the  throne,  Emperor 
William  ordered  the  picture  changed  and  said :  "  Let  the  Prince  keep  his  foot 
off  the  throne  till  I  leave  it." 

THE   WEALTH   OF  THE   PRINCE. 

Already  throned  was  the  Heavenly  Prince  side  by  side  with  the  Father. 
What  a  circle  of  dominion !  What  myriads  of  admirers !  What  unending 
round  of  glories !  All  the  towers  chimed  the  Prince's  praises.  Of  all  the 
inhabitants,  from  the  centre  of  the  city  on  over  the  hills  and  clear  down  to  the 
beach  against  which  the  ocean  of  immensity  rolls  its  billows,  the  Prince  was 
the  acknowledged  favorite.     No  wonder  Paul  says  that  "  He  was  rich." 

Set  all  the  diamonds  of  the  earth  in  one  sceptre,  build  all  the  palaces  of 
the  earth  in  one  Alhambra,  gather  all  the  pearls  of  the  sea  in  one  diadem,  put 
all  the  values  of  the  earth  in  one  coin,  the  aggregate  would  not  express  His 
affluence.  Yes,  Paul  was  right.  Solomon  had  in  gold  $3,400,000,000,  and  in 
silver  $5,145,001,885.  But  a  greater  than  Solomon  is  here.  Not  the  million- 
aire, but  the  quadrillionaire  of  heaven.  To  describe  His  celestial  surroundings 
the  Bible  uses  all  colors,  gathering  them  in  rainbow  over  the  throne  and  set- 
ting them  as  agate  in  the  temple  window,  and  hoisting  twelve  of  them  into  a 
wall  from  striped  jasper  at  the  base  to  transparent  amethyst  in  the  capstone, 
while  between  are  green  of  emerald,  and  snow  of  pearl,  and  blue  of  sapphire, 
and  yellow  of  topaz,  and  grey  of  chrysoprasus,  and  flame  of  jacinth.  All  the 
loveliness  of  landscape  in  foliage,  and  river  and  fill,  and  all  enchantment  aqua- 
marine, the  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire  as  the  sun  sinks  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean. All  the  thrill  of  music,  instrumental,  and  vocal,  harps,  trumpet, 
doxologies.  There  stood  the  Prince,  surrounded  by  those  who  had  under  their 
wings  the  velocity  of  millions  of  miles  in  a  second,  rich  in  love,  rich  in  adora- 
tion, rich  in  power,  rich  in  worship,  rich  in  holiness,  rich  as  God. 


336  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

A   FALLEN   WORLD., 

But  one  day  there  was  a  big  disaster  in  a  department  of  God's  universe. 
A  race  fallen !  A  world  in  ruins  !  Our  planet  the  scene  of  catastrophe !  A 
globe  swinging  out  into  darkness,  with  mountains,  and  seas,  and  islands,  an 
awful  centrifugal  of  sin  seeming  to  overpower  the  beautiful  centripetal  of 
righteousness,  and  from  it  a  groan  reached  heaven.  Such  a  sound  had  never 
been  heard  there.  Plenty  of  sweet  sounds,  but  never  an  outcry  of  distress,  or 
an  echo  of  agony.  At  that  one  groan  the  Prince  rose  from  all  the  blissful 
circumjacence,  and  started  for  the  outer  gate,  and  descended  into  the  night  of 
this  world.     Out  of  what  a  bright  harbor  into  what  rough  sea ! 

"  Stay  with  us,"  cried  angel  after  angel,  and  potentate  after  potentate. 

"No,"  said  the  Prince;  "I  cannot  stay;  I  must  be  off  for  that  wreck  of 
a  world.  I  must  stop  that  groan.  I  must  hush  that  distress.  I  must  fathom 
that  woe.  I  must  redeem  those  nations.  Farewell,  thrones  and  temples,  com- 
panions cherubic,  seraphic,  archangelic !  Excuse  this  absence,  for  I  will  come 
back  again,  carrying  on  My  shoulder  a  ransomed  world.  Till  this  is  done  I 
choose  earthly  scoff  to  heavenly  acclamation,  and  a  cattle-pen  to  a  king's 
palace,  frigid  zone  of  earth  to  atmosphere  of  celestial  radiance.  I  have  no  time 
to  lose,  for  hark  ye  to  the  groan  that  grows  mightier  while  I  wait.  Farewell ! 
Farewell !  " 

CHRIST'S     ARRIVAL    ON     EARTH. 

Was  there  ever  a  contrast  so  overpowering  as  that  between  the  noonday 
of  Christ's  celestial  departure  and  the  midnight  of  His  earthly  arrival  ?  Sure 
enough,  the  angels  were  out  that  night  in  the  sky,  and  especial  meteors  acted 
as  escort,  but  all  that  was  from  other  worlds  and  not  from  this  world.  The 
earth  made  no  demonstration  of  welcome.  If  one  of  the  great  princes  of  this 
world  steps  out  at  a  depot  cheers  resound,  and  the  bands  play,  and  the  flags 
wave.  But  for  the  arrival  of  this  missionary  Prince  of  the  skies  not  a  torch 
flared,  not  a  trumpet  blew,  not  a  plume  fluttered.  All  the  music  and  the  pomp 
were  overhead.  Our  world  opened  for  Him  nothing  better  than  a  barn  door. 
The  Rajah  of  Cashmere  sent  to  Victoria  a  bedstead  of  carved  gold  and  a  canopy 
that  cost  $750,000,  but  the  world  had  for  the  Prince  of  heaven  and  earth  only 
a  litter  of  straw.  The  Crown  jewels  in  the  Tower  of  London  amount  to 
$15,000,000,  but  this  member  of  eternal  royalty  had  nowhere  to  lay  His  head. 
To  know  how  poor  He  was,  ask  the  camel  drivers,  ask  the  shepherds,  ask  Mary, 
ask  the  three  wise  men  of  the  East  who  afterward  came  there,  young  Caspar, 
middle-aged  Balthasar  and  old  Melchior.  To  know  how  poor  He  was,  examine 
all  the  records  of  real  estate  in  all  that  Oriental  country  and  see  what  vine- 
yard, or  what  house,  or  what  field  He  owned.  Not  one.  Of  what  mortgage 
was  He  the  mortgagee  ?  Of  what  tenement  was  He  the  landlord  ?  Of  what 
le  ise  was  He  the  lessee  ?  Who  ever  paid  Him  rent  ?  Not  owning  the  boat  on 
which  He  sailed,  or  the  beast  on  which  He  rode,  or  the  pillow  on  which  fie  slept. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


337 


He  had  so  little  estate  that  in  order  to  pay  His  tax  He  had  to  perform  a  miracle, 
putting  the  amount  of  the  assessment  in  a  fish's  mouth  and  having  it  hauled 
ashore.  And  after  His  death  the  world  rushed  in  to  take  an  inventory  of 
His  goods,  and  the  entire  aggregate  was  the  garments  He  had  worn,  sleeping 
in  them  by  night  and  travelling  in  them  by  day,  bearing  on  them  the  dust 
of  the  highway  and  the  saturation  of  the  sea.  Paul  did  not  go  far  from 
hitting  the  mark  when  He  said  of  the  missionary  Prince :  "  For  your  sakes 
He  became  poor !" 

A    CHILLING    RECEPTION. 

The  world  could  have  treated  Him  better  if  it  had  chosen.     It  had  all  the 
means  for  making  His  earthly  condition  comfortable.     Only  a  few  years  before, 


TOWER   OF  LONDON. 


when  Pompey,  the  General,  returned  in  triumph,  he  was  greeted  with  arches  and 
a  costly  column  which  celebrated  the  12,000,000  people  whom  he  had  killed  or 
conquered,  and  he  was  allowed  to  wear  his  triumphal  robe  in  the  Senate.  The 
world  had  applause  for  imperial  butchers,  but  buffeting  for  the  Prince  of  Peace  ; 
plenty  of  golden  chalices  for  the  favored  to  drink  out  of,  but  our  Prince  musi 
put  His  lips  to  the  bucket  of  the  well  by  the  roadside  after  He  had  begged  fo; 
a  drink.  Poor  ?  Born  in  another  man's  barn  and  eating  at  another  man's  table, 
and  cruising  the  lake  in  another  man's  fishing-smack,  and  buried  in  another 
man's  mausoleum.  Four  inspired  authors  wrote  His  biography,  and  innumera- 
ble lives  of  Christ  have  been  published,  but  He  composed  His  autobiography  in 
the  most  compressed  way.  He  said  :  "  I  have  trodden  the  wine-press  alone." 
Poor  in  the  estimation   of  nearly  all    the    prosperous    classes.     They  called 


22 


338  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

Him  Sabbath-breaker,  wine-bibber,  traitor,  blasphemer,  and  ransacked  the  dic- 
tionary of  opprobrium  from  lid  to  lid  to  express  their  detestation.  I  can  think 
now  of  only  two  well-to-do  men  who  espoused  His  cause,  Nicodemus  and  Joseph, 
of  Arimathea.  His  friends  for  the  most  part  were  people  who,  in  that  climate 
where  ophthalmy  or  inflammation  of  the  eyeball  sweeps  ever  and  anon  as  a 
scourge,  had  become  blind,  sick  people  who  w,ere  anxious  to  get  well,  and 
troubled  people  in  whose  family  there  was  some  one  dead  or  dying.  If  He  had 
a  purse  at  all  it  was  empty,  or  we  would  have  heard  what  was  done  with  the 
contents  at  the  post-mortem.  Poor  ?  The  pigeon  in  the  dove-cote,  the  rabbit 
in  its  burrow,  the  silk- worm  in  its  cocoon,  the  bee  in  its  hive  is  better  pro- 
vided for,  better  off",  better  sheltered.  •  Ay,  the  brute  creation  has  a  home  on 
«»arth,  which  Christ  had  not. 

If  on  windy  days  the  raven 

Gambol  like  a  dancing  skiff, 
Not  the  less  he  loves  his  haven 

On  the  bosom  of  the  cliff. 
If  almost  with  eagle  pinion 

O'er  the  Alps  the  chamois  roam, 
Yet  he  has  some  small  dominion 

Which,  no  doubt,  he  calls  his  home. 

But  the  Crown  Prince  of  all  heavenly  dominion  has  less  than  the  raven, 
less  than  the  chamois,  for  He  was  homeless.  Ay,  in  the  history  of  the  uni- 
verse there  is  no  other  instance  of  such  coming  down.  Who  can  count  the 
miles  from  the  top  of  the  throne  to  the  bottom  of  the  cross  ?  Cleopatra, 
giving  a  banquet  to  Antony,  took  a  pearl  worth  $100,000  and  dissolved  it  in 
vinegar  and  swallowed  it.  But  when  our  Prince,  according  to  the  evangelist, 
in  His  last  hours  took  the  vinegar,  in  it  had  been  dissolved  all  the  pearls  of 
His  heavenly  royalty.  Down  until  there  was  no  other  depth  for  Him  to 
touch,  troubled  until  there  was  no  other  harassment  to  suffer,  poor  until  there 
was  no  other  pauperism  to  torture.  Billions  of  dollars  spent  in  wars  to  destroy 
men,  who  will  furnish  the  statistics  of  the  value  of  that  precious  blood  that 
was  shed  to  save  us  ? 

THE   GRACE   OF   GOD. 

One  of  John  Bunyan's  great  books  is  entitled  "Grace  Abounding."  "It 
is  all  of  grace  that  I  am  saved"  has  been  on  the  lips  of  hundreds  of  dying 
Christians.  The  boy  Sammy  was  right  when,  being  examined  for  admission 
into  church  membership,  he  was  asked:  "Whose  work  was  your  salvation?" 
and  he  answered :  "  Part  mine  and  part  God's."  Then  the  examiner  asked : 
;l  What  part  did  you  do,  Sammy  ? "  and  the  answer  was :  "  I  opposed  God  all 
i  could,  and  He  did  the  rest."  Oh !  the  height  of  it,  the  depth  of  it,  the 
length  of  it,  the  breadth  of  it — the  grace  of  God ! 

Mr.  Fletcher  having  written  a  pamphlet  that  pleased  the  king,  the  king 
offered  to  compensate  him,  and  Fletcher  answered :  "  There  is  only  one  thing 
I  want,  and  that  is  more  grace." 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


339 


Yes,  blood-bought  readers,  grace  to  live  by  and  grace  to  die  by.  Grace 
that  saved  the  publican,  that  saved  Lydia,  that  saved  the  dying  thief,  that 
saved  the  jailer,  that  saved  me.  But  the  riches  of  that  grace  will  not  be  fully 
understood  until  heaven  breaks  in  upon  the  soul.     An  old  Scotchman  who  had 


TEE  NESTLINGS. 


been    a    soldier    in  one  of  the    European    wars,  was    sick    and  dying    in   one  of 
our    American    hospitals.     His    one    desire    was    to  see    Scotland    and    his  old 
home,   and  once    again  walk    the   heather  of  the  highlands*  and    hear   the   bag- 
pipes of  the  Scotch  regiments.     The  night  that  the  old   Scotch   soldier  died,  a 


34o  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

young  man,  somewhat  reckless  but  kind-hearted,  got  a  company  of  musicians 
to  come  and  play  under  the  old  soldier's  window,  and  among  the  instruments 
was  a  bagpipe.  The  instant  that  the  musicians  began,  the  dying  old  man, 
in  delirium,  said :  "  What's  that,  what's  that  ?  Why,  it's  the  regiments  com- 
ing home.  That's  the  tune ;  yes,  that's  the  tune.  Thank  God,  I  have  got 
home  once  more  ! " 

"Bonny  Scotland  and  Bonny  Doon"  were  the  last  words  he  uttered  as  he 
passed  up  to  the  highlands  of  the  better  country. 

When  Artaxerxes  was  hunting,  Tirebazus,  who  was  attending  him,  showed 
the  king  a  rent  in  his  garment.  The  king  said  :  "  How  shall  I  mend  it  ?  " 
"  By  giving  it  to  me,"  said  Tirebazus.  Then  the  king  gave  him  the  robe,  but 
commanded  him  never  to  wear  it,  as  it  would  be  inappropriate. 

See  the  startling  and  comforting  fact !  While  our  Prince  throws  off  the 
habit,  He  not  only  allows  us  to  wear  it,  but  commands  us  to  wear  it,  and  it 
will  become  us  well,  and  for  the  poverties  of  our  spiritual  state  we  may  put 
on  the  splendors  of  heavenly  regalement.     For  our  sakes !     Oh,  the  personality 

of  this  religion !  Not  an  abstraction,  not  an 
arch  under  which  we  walk  to  behold  elabor- 
ate masonry,  not  an  ice  castle  like  that  which 
Empress  Elizabeth,  of  Russia,  over  a  hundred 
years  ago  ordered  constrvicted,  winter  with 
its  trowel  of  crystal  cementing  the  huge 
blocks  that  had  been  quarried  from  the  frozen 
rivers  of  the  North  ;  but  a  father's  house, 
with  a  wide  hearth  crackling  a  hearty  wel- 
come. A  religion  of  warmth  and  inspira- 
tion, and  light  and  cheer ;  something  we 
the  trumpeter.  can    take    jnto    our    hearts,   and  homes,   and 

business  recreation,  and  joys  and  sorrows.  Not  an  unmanageable  gift,  like  the 
galley  presented  to  Ptolemy,  which  required  4000  men  to  row,  and  its  draught 
of  water  was  so  great  that  it  could  not  come  near  the  shore,  but  something 
you  can  run  up  any  stream  of  annoyance,  however  shallow.  Enrichment  now, 
enrichment  forever. 

The  seven  wise  men  of  Greece  were  chiefly  known  each  for  one  apothegm  : 
Solon  for  the  saying,  "Know  thyself";  Periander  for  the  saying,  "Nothing  is 
impossible  to  industry  "  ;  Chilo  for  the  saying,  "  Consider  the  end  "  ;  Thales 
for  the  saying,  "  Suretyship  is  the  precursor  of  ruin."  And  Paul,  distinguished 
for  a  thousand  utterances,  might  well  afford  to  be  memorable  for  the  saying : 
"  Ye  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that,  though  He  was  rich,  yet 
for  your  sakes  He  became  poor,  that  ye  through   His  poverty  might   be  rich." 


(Ccmcortr  atiti  j!3iscottr. 

FOUNDING   OF   THE   WORLD   TO   THE   MUSIC   OF  THE 

SPHERES. 

Y  readers  have  all  seen  the  ceremony  at  the  laying 
of  the  corner-stone  of  church,  asylum    or    Masonic 
temple.     Into  the  hollow  of  the  stone  were  placed 
scrolls  of  history  and   important    documents,  to  be 
suggestive  if,  one  or  two  hundred   years  after,  the 
building  should  be  destroyed  by  fire  or  torn  down. 
We    remember    the   silver    trowel  or  iron    hammer 
that  smote  the   square    piece  of  granite    into  sanc- 
tity.    We  remember  some  venerable  man  who  pre- 
sided,   wielding    the    trowel    or    hammer.     We    re- 
member also  the  music,  as  the  choir  stood  on    the 
scattered  stones  and   timber   of  the    building   about  to  be 
constructed.     The    leaves    of  the    note-books    fluttered    in 
the    wind,  and    were    turned    over    with    a  great    rustling, 
and  we  remember  how  the  bass,  barytone,  tenor,  contralto 
and    soprano    voices    commingled.     They   had    for    many 
days  been  rehearsing  the  special  programme  that  it  might 
be  worthy  of  the  corner-stone  laying. 

Job,  the  poet  of  Uz,  reminds  us  of  a  grander  cere- 
mony than  any  mortal  eyes  have  ever  witnessed  when 
he  asks :  "  Who  laid  the  corner-stone  thereof  when  the  morning  stars  sang 
together  ?" — the  laying  of  the  foundation  of  this  great  temple  of  a  world.  The 
corner-stone  was  a  block  of  light  and  the  trowel  was  of  celestial  crystal.  All 
about  and  on  the  embankments  of  cloud  stood  the  angelic  choristers,  unrolling 
their  librettos  of  overture,  and  other  worlds  clapped  shining  cymbals  while  the 
ceremony  went  on,  and  God,  the  architect,  by  stroke  of  light  after  stroke  of 
light,  dedicated  this  great  cathedral  of  a  world,  with  mountains  for  pillars,  and 
sky  for  frescoed  ceiling,  and  flowering  fields  for  floor,  and  sunrise  and  mid- 
night aurora  for  upholstery. 

A    MUSICAL    PORTFOLIO. 

The  fact  is  that  the  whole  universe  was  a  complete  cadence,  an  unbroken 
dithyramb,  a  musical  portfolio.  The  great  sheet  of  immensity  had  been  spread 
out,  and  written  on  it  were  the  stars,  the  smaller  of  them  minims,  the  larger 
of   them    sustained    notes.      The    meteors    marked    the    staccato    passages,    the 

(340 


342 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


whole  heavens  a  gamut,  with  all  sounds,  intonations  and  modulations,  the 
space  between  the  worlds  a  musical  interval,  trembling  of  stellar  light,  a 
quaver,  the  thunder  a  bass  clef,  the  wind  among  the  trees  a  treble  clef.  That 
is  the  way  God  made  all  things  a  perfect  harmony. 

But  one  day  a  harp-string  snapped  in  the  great  orchestra.  One  day  a 
voice  sounded  out  of  tune.  One  day  a  discord,  harsh  and  terrific,  grated  upon 
the  glorious  antiphone.  It  was  sin  that  made  the  dissonance,  and  that  harsh 
discord  has  been  sounding  through  the  centuries.  All  the  work  of  Christians 
and  philanthropists  and  reformers  of  all  ages  is  to  stop  that  discord,  and  get 
all  things  back  into  the  perfect  harmony  which  was  heard  at  the  laying  of 
the  corner-stone,  when  the  morning  stars  sang  together.  I  hope  here  to  show 
you  that  sin  is  discord  and  righteousness  is  harmony. 

That  things  in  general  are  out  of  tune  is  as  plain  as  to  a  musician's  ear  is 
the  unhappy  clash  of  clarionet  and  bassoon  in  an  orchestral  rendering. 

The  world's  health  out  of  tune : 
Weak  lung  and  the  atmosphere  in  colli- 
sion, disordered  eye  and  noonday  light 
in  quarrel,  rheumatic  limb  and  damp 
weather  in  struggle,  neuralgias,  and 
pneumonias,  and  consumptions,  and 
epilepsies  in  flocks  swoop  upon  neigh- 
borhoods and  cities.  Where  you  find 
one  person  with  sound  throat,  and  keen 
eyesight,  and  alert  ear,  and  easy  respira- 
tion, and  regular  pulsation,  and  supple 
limb,  and  prime  digestion,  and  steady 
nerves,  you  find  a  hundred  who  have  to  be 
very  careful  because  this,  or  that,  or  the 
other  physical  function  is  disordered. 
The  human  intellect  out  of  tune:  The  judgment  wrongly  swerved,  or  the 
memory  leaky,  or  the  will  weak,  or  the  temper  inflammable,  and  the  well-balanced 
mind  exceptional.  Domestic  life  out  of  tune  :  Only  here  and  there  a  conjugal 
outbreak  of  incompatibility  of  temper  through  the  divorce  courts,  or  a  filial  out- 
break about  a  father's  will  through  the  surrogate's  court,  or  a  case  of  wife- 
beating  or  husband  poisoning  through  the  criminal  courts,  but  thousands  of 
families  with  June  outside  and  January  within. 

Society  out  of  tune:  Labor  and  capital,  their  hands  on  each  other's  throat. 
Spirit  of  caste  keeping  those  down  in  the  social  scale  in  a  struggle  to  get  up, 
and  putting  those  who  are  up  in  anxiety  lest  they  have  to  come  down.  No 
wonder  the  old  piano-forte  of  society  is  all  out  of  tune,  when  hypocrisy,  and  lying, 
and  subterfuge,  and  double-dealing,  and  sycophancy,  and  charlatanism  and 
revenge  have  for  six  thousand  years  been  banging  away  at  the  keys  and  stamp- 
ing the  pedals. 


THE  MORNING  OF  THE  WORLD. 


A   POEM  OF  I.OVE. 


(343) 


344 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


On  all  sides  there  is  a  perpetual  shipwreck  of  harmonies.  Nations  in  dis- 
cord :  Without  realizing  it,  so  wrong  is  the  feeling  of  nation  for  nation  that 
the  symbols  chosen  are  fierce  and  destructive.  In  this  country,  where  our  skies 
are  full  of  robins,  and  doves,  and  morning  larks,  we  have  our  national  symbol, 
.he  fierce  and  filthy  eagle,  as  immoral  a  bird  as  can  be  found  in  all  the 
ornithological  catalogues.     In  Great  Britain  where"  they  have  lambs  and  fallow- 


The  genius  of  fable — the  winged  dragon. — From  the  Painting  by  Gustave  Moreau. 

deer,  their  symbol  is  the  merciless  lion.  In  Russia,  where,  from  between  her 
frozen  north  and  blooming  south,  all  kindly  beasts  dwell,  they  choose  the  growl- 
ing bear,  and  in  the  world's  heraldry  a  favorite  figure  is  the  dragon,  which  is  a 
■winged  serpent,  ferocious  and  deathful. 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  345 

FOND    OF    CONTENTION. 

And  so  fond  is  the  world  of  contention  that  we  climb  out  through  the 
heavens  and  baptize  one  of  the  other  planets  with  the  spirit  of  battle  and  call 
it  Mars  after  the  god  of  war,  and  we  give  to  the  eighth  sign  of  the  zodiac  the 
name  of  the  scorpion,  a  creature  which  is  chiefly  celebrated  for  its  deadly  sting. 
But,  after  all,  these  symbols  are  expressive  of  the  way  nation  feels  toward 
nation.  Discord  wide  as  the  continent  and  bridging  the  seas.  I  suppose  you 
have  noticed  how  warmly  in  love  dry  goods  stores  are  with  other  dry  goods 
stores,  and  how  highly  grocerymen  think  of  the  sugars  of  the  grocerymen  on 
the  same  block.  And  in  what  a  eulogistic  way  allopathic  and  homoeopathic 
doctors  speak  of  each  other,  and  how  many  ministers  will  sometimes  put  minis- 
ters on  their  beautiful  cooking  instrument  which  the  English  call  a  spit,  an 
iron  roller  with  spikes  on  it  and  turned  by  a  crank  before  a  hot  fire,  and  then 
if  the  minister  being  roasted  cries  out  against  it,  the  men  who  are  turning  him 
say  :  "  Hush,  brother !  we  are  turning  this  spit  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
good  of  your  soul,  and  you  must  be  quiet  while  we  close  the  service  witn: 

Blest  be  the  tie  that   binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love." 

The  earth  is  diametered  and  circumferenced  with  discord,  and  the  music 
that  was  rendered  at  the  laying  of  the  world's  corner-stone,  when  the  morning 
stars  sang  together,  is  not  heard  now ;  and  though  here  and  there,  from  this 
and  that  part  of  society,  and  from  this  and  that  part  of  the  earth,  there  comes 
up  a  thrilling  solo  of  love,  or  a  warble  of  worship,  or  a  sweet  duet  of  patience, 
they  are  drowned  out  by  a  discord  that  shakes  the  earth. 

Paul  says :  "  The  whole  creation  groaneth."  And  while  the  nightingale, 
and  the  woodlark,  and  the  canary,  and  the  plover  sometimes  sing  so  sweetly 
that  their  notes  have  been  written  out  in  musical  notation,  and  it  is  found 
that  the  cuckoo  sings  in  the  key  of  D,  and  that  the  cormorant  is  a  basso  in 
the  winged  choir,  yet  sportsman's  gun  and  the  autumnal  blast  often  leave 
them  ruffled  and  bleeding,  or  dead  in  meadow  or  forest.  Paul  was  right,  foi 
the  groan  in  nature  drowns  out  the  prime  donne  of  the  sky. 

THE   DEVIL'S   SONATA. 

Tartini,  the  great  musical  composer,  dreamed  one  night  that  he  made  a 
contract  with  Satan,  the  latter  to  be  ever  in  the  composer's  service.  But  one 
night  he  handed  to  Satan  a  violin,  on  which  Diabolus  played  such  sweet  music 
that  the  composer  was  awakened  by  the  emotion  and  tried  to  reproduce  the 
sounds,  and  therefrom  was  written  Tartini's  most  famous  piece,  entitled  the 
"  Devil's  Sonata,"  a  dream  ingenious  but  faulty,  for  all  melody  descends  from 
heaven,  and  only  discords  ascend  from  hell.  All  hatreds,  feuds,  controversies, 
back-bitings  and  revenges  are  the  devil's  sonata,  are  diabolic  fugue,  are  demo- 
niac phantasy,  are  grand  march  of  doom,  are  allegro  of  perdition. 


346 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


But  if  in  this  world  things  in  general  are  out  of  tune  to  our  frail  ear,  how 
much  more  so  to  ears  angelic  and  divine.  It  takes  a  skilled  artist  fully  to 
appreciate  disagreement  of  sound.  Many  have  no  capacity  to  detect  a  defect  of 
musical  execution,  and,  though  there  were  in  one  bar  as  many  offenses  against 
harmony  as  could  crowd  in  between  the  lower  F  of  the  bass  and  the  higher  G 
of  the  soprano,  it  would  give  them  no  discomfort,  while  on  the  forehead  of  the 
educated  artist  beads  of  perspiration  would  stand  out  as  a  result  of  the  harrow- 
ing dissonance.  While  an  amateur  was  performing  on  a  piano  and  had  just 
struck  the  wrong  chord,  John  Sebastian  Bach,  the  immortal   composer,  entered 


'A,  r/'" 


THE   BOAT  SONG. 


the  room  and  the  amateur  rose  in  embarrassment,  and  Bach  rushed  past  the 
host,  who  stepped  forward  to  greet  him,  and  before  the  keyboard  had  stopped 
vibrating,  put  his  adroit  hand  upon  the  keys  and  changed  the  painful  inhar- 
mony  into  glorious  cadence.  Then  Bach  turned  and  gave  salutation  to  the 
host  who  had  invited  him. 

MORAL    DISCORD. 

But  the  worst  of  all  discords  is  moral  discord.  If  society  and  the  world 
are  painfully  discordant  to  imperfect  man,  what  must  they  be  to  a  perfect 
God?     People  try  to    define  what  sin  is.     It  seems  to    me   that   sin  is  getting 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  347 

out  of  harmony  with  God,  a  disagreement  with  His  holiness,  with  His  purity, 
with  His  love,  with  His  commands ;  our  will  clashing  with  His  will,  the  finite 
dashing  against  the  Infinite,  the  frail  against  the  puissant,  the  created  against 
the  Creator.  If  a  thousand  musicians,  with  flute,  and  comet-a-piston,  and 
trumpet,  and  violoncello,  and  hautboy,  and  trombone,  and  all  the  wind  and 
stringed  instruments  that  ever  gathered  in  a  Dusseldorf  jubilee,  should  resolve 
that  they  would  play  out  of  tune,  and  put  concord  to  the  rack,  and  make  the 
place  wild  with  shrieking,  and  grating,  and  rasping  sounds,  they  could  not 
make  such  a  pandemonium  as  that  which  rages  in  a  sinful  soul  when  God 
listens  to  the  play  of  its  thoughts,  passions  aud  emotions — discord,  lifelong 
discord,  maddening  discord.  The  world  pays  more  for  discord  than  it  does  for 
consonance.  High  prices  have  been  paid  for  music.  One  man  gave  $225  to 
hear  the  Swedish  songstress  in  New  York,  and  another  $625  to  hear  her  in 
Boston,  and  another  $650  to  hear  her  in  Providence.  Fabulous  prices  have 
been  paid  for  sweet  sounds,  but  far  more  has  been  paid  for  discord.  The  Cri- 
mean War  cost  $1,700,000,000,  and  our  American  Civil  War  over  $9,500,000,000, 
and  the  war  debts  of  professed  Christian  nations  are  about  $15,000,000,000. 
The  world  pays  for  this  red  ticket,  which  admits  it  to  the  Saturnalia  of  broken 
bones,  and  death  agonies,  and  destroyed  cities,  and  plowed  graves,  and  crushed 
hearts,  any  amount  of  money  Satan  asks.     Discord !    Discord ! 

OVERTURE   OF  THE   MORNING   STARS. 

But  I  have  to  tell  you  that  the  song  that  the  morning  stars  sang  together 
at  the  laying  of  the  world's  corner-stone  is  to  be  resumed  again.  Mozart' J 
greatest  overture  was  composed  one  night  when  he  was  several  times  over- 
powered with  sleep,  and  artists  say  they  can  tell  the  places  in  the  music 
where  he  was  falling  asleep,  and  the  places  where  he  awakened.  So  the  over- 
ture of  the  morning  stars,  spoken  of  in  Job,  has  been  asleep,  but  it  will 
awaken  and  be  more  grandly  rendered  by  the  evening  stars  of  the  world's 
existence  than  by  the  morning  stars,  and  the  vespers  will  be  sweeter  than  the 
matins.  The  work  of  all  good  men  and  women,  and  of  all  good  churches,  and 
all  reform  associations,  is  to  bring  the  race  back  to  the  original  harmony.  The 
rebellious  heart  to  be  attuned,  social  life  to  be  attuned,  commercial  ethics  to  be 
attuned,  internationality  to  be  attuned,  hemispheres  to  be  attuned.  But  by 
what  force  and  in  what  way  ? 

In  olden  times  the  choristers  had  a  tuning-fork  with  two  prongs,  and  they 
would  strike  it  on  the  back  of  pew  or  music-rack  and  put  it  to  the  ear,  and 
then  start  the  tune,  and  all  the  other  voices  would  join.  In  modern  orchestra 
the  leader  has  a  complete  instrument  rightly  attuned,  and  he  sounds  that  and 
all  the  other  performers  turn  the  keys  of  their  instruments  to  make  them  cor- 
respond, and  sound  the  bow  over  the  string,  and  listen,  and  sound  out  over 
again  until  all  the  keys  are  screwed  to  concert  pitch,  and  the  discords  melt 
into   one    great    symphony,    and    the    curtain   hoists,    and    the    baton    taps,  and 


348 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


audiences  are  raptured  with  Schumann's  "  Paradise  and  the  Peri,"  or  Rossini's 
"  Stabat  Mater,"  or  Bach's  "  Magnificat "  in  D,  or  Gounod's  "  Redemption." 

THE  INSTRUMENT  TO  ATTUNE  THE  WORLD. 

Now  our  world  can  never  be  attuned  by  an  imperfect  instrument.     Even  a 

Cremona  would 
not  do.  Heaven 
has  ordained  the 
only  instrument, 
and  it  is  made 
out  of  the  wood 
of  the  cross,  and 
the  voices  that 
accompany  it  are 
imported  voices, 
cantatrices  of  the 
first  Christmas 
night,  when 
Heaven  sere- 
naded the  earth 
with:  "Glory  to 
God  in  the  high- 
est, and  on  earth 
peace,  good- will 
to  men." 

Many  men 
have  thought  to 
get  their  heart 
heavenly  attuned 
by  withdrawing 
from  the  world 
and  living  like 
Hieronymus, 
with  a  lion  merely 
to  remind  them 
of  a  power  danger- 
ous unless  con- 
trolled, but  love 
moves    us     more 

Hieronymus,  a  Oerman  recluse  of  great  piety,  fitted  up  a  room  with  many  comforts  in  the  mountains  near 
Wurtemburg,  and  for  years  had  no  other  companions  than  a  dog  and  pet  lion.     During  his  retirement  he  made    mightily       than 
hundreds  of  holy    figures  in  which    one  or  both  these  animals  were  invariably  prominent.  - 

fear. 
Lest  we  start  too  far  off  and  get  lost  in  generalities,  we  had  better   begin 
with    ourselves — get   our   own   hearts    and   life    in    harmony    with    the    eternal 


WORKSHOP  OF   A   PHILOSOPHER   OF  THE  SIXTEENTH   CENTURY. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  349 

Christ.  Oh,  for  His  almighty  spirit  to  attune  us,  to  chord  our  will  with  His 
will,  to  modulate  our  life  with  His  life,  and  bring  us  into  unison  with  all  that 
is  pure  and  self-sacrificing  and  heavenly.  The  strings  of  our  nature  are  all 
broken  and  twisted,  and  the  bow  is  so  slack  it  cannot  evoke  anything  melli- 
fluous. The  instrument  made  for  Heaven  to  play  on  has  been  roughly  twanged 
and  struck  by  influences  worldly  and  demoniac.  O  master  hand  of  Christ, 
restore  this  split,  and  fractured,  and  despoiled,  and  unstrung  nature,  until  first 
it  shall  wail  out  for  our  sin,  and  then  thrill  with  divine  pardon. 

The  whole  world  must  also  be  attuned  by  the  same  power.  Some  time 
ago  I  was  in  the  Fairbanks  Weighing  Scale  Manufactory  of  Vermont.  Six 
hundred  hands,  and  they  have  never  had  a  strike.  Complete  harmony  between 
labor  and  capital,  the  operatives  of  scores  of  years  in  their  beautiful  homes 
near  by  the  mansions  of  the  manufacturers  whose  invention  and  Christian 
behavior  made  the  great  enterprise.  So,  all  the  world  over,  labor  and  capital 
will  be  brought  into  euphony. 

THE   ANVIL   CHORUS. 

You  may  have  heard  what  is  called  the  "Anvil  Ch6rus,"  composed  by 
Verdi,  a  tune  played  by  hammers,  great  and  small,  now  with  mighty  stroke, 
and  now  with  heavy  stroke,  beating  a  great  iron  anvil.  That  is  what  the 
world  has  got  to  come  to — anvil  chorus,  yard  stick  chorus,  shuttle  chorus, 
trowel  chorus,  crowbar  chorus,  pick-axe  chorus,  gold-mine  chorus,  rail-track 
chorus,  locomotive  chorus.  It  can  be  done,  and  it  will  be  done.  So  all  social 
life  will  be  attuned  by  the  gospel  harp.  There  will  be  as  many  classes  in 
society  as  now,  but  the  classes  will  not  be  regulated  by  birth,  or  wealth,  or 
accident,  but  by  the  scale  of  virtue  and  benevolence,  and  people  will  be  assigned 
to  their  places  as  good,  or  very  good,  or  most  excellent.  So,  also,  commercial 
life  will  be  attuned,  and  their  will  be  twelve  in  every  dozen,  and  sixteen  ounces 
in  every  pound,  and  apples  at  the  bottom  of  the  barrel  will  be  as  sound  as 
those  on  the  top,  and  silk  goods  will  not  be  cotton,  and  sellers  will  not  have 
to  charge  honest  people  more  than  the  right  price  because  others  will  not  pay, 
and  goods  will  come  to  you  corresponding  with  the  sample  by  which  you  pur- 
chased them,  and  coffee  will  not  be  chickoried,  and  sugar  will  not  be  sanded, 
and  milk  will  not  be  chalked,  and  adulteration  of  food  will  be  a  state's  prison 
offense.  Ay,  all  things  shall  be  attuned.  Elections  in  England  and  the  United 
States  will  no  more  be  a  grand  carnival  of  defamation  and  scurrility,  but  the 
elevation  of  righteous  men  in  a  righteous  way. 
\  In  the    sixteenth  century  the    singers  called    the    Fischer  Brothers  reached 

the  lowest  bass  ever  recorded,  and  the  highest  note  ever  trilled  was  by  La  Bas- 
tardella,  and  Catalini's  voice  had  a  compass  of  three  and  a  half  octaves ;  but 
Christianity  is  more  wonderful,  for  it  runs  all  up  and  down  the  greatest 
heights  and  the  deepest  depths  of  the  world's  necessity.  All  the  sacred  music 
\n    homes,  and   concert    halls    and  churches    tends    toward    this    consummation. 


35° 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


Make  it  more  and  more  hearty.     Sing  in  your  families,  and  places  of  business. 
If  we  with  proper  spirit  use  these  faculties,  we  are  rehearsing    for    the    skies. 


A   NEW   SONG. 


Heaven  is  to  have  a  new  song,  an  entirely  new  song,  but  I  should  not 
wonder  if,  as  sometimes  on  earth  a  tune  is  fashioned  out  of  many  tunes,  or 
it  is  one  tune  with  the  variations,  so  some  of  the  songs  of  the  redeemed  may 
have  playing  through  them  the  songs   of  earth ;    and  how  thrilling,  as  coming 


THE  SONG   OF  THE   SWAN. 


through  the  great  anthem  of  the  saved,  accompanied  by  harpers  with  theil 
harps  and  trumpeters  with  their  trumpets,  we  should  hear  some  of  the  strains 
of  "Antioch,"  and  "  Mount  Pisgah,"  and  "  Coronation."  and  "  Lenox,"  and 
"St.  Martin's,"  and  "Fountain,"  and  "Ariel,"  and  "Old  Hundred."  Ho« 
they  would  bring  to  mind  the  praying  circles  and  communion  days,  and  the 
Christmas  festivals,  and  the  Church  worship  in  which  on  earth  we  mingled  ! 
I  have  no  idea  that  when  we  bid  farewell  to  earth  we  are  to  bid  farewell  to 
all  these  grand  old  gospel  hymns,  which  melted  and  raptured  our  souls  for  so 
many  years.  Now,  my  readers,  if  sin  is  discord  and  righteousness  is  harmony, 
let  us  get  out  of  the  one  and  enter  the  other. 

After  our  dreadful  Civil  War    was    over,    and    in    the    summer    of    1869,  a 
great    national    peace   jubilee    was    held    in    Boston,    and,    as    an  elder   of   my 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


35i 


church  had  been  honored  by  the  selection  of  some  of  his  music  to  be  ren- 
dered on  that  occasion,  I  accompanied  him  to  the  jubilee.  Forty  thousand 
people  sat  and  stood  in  the  great  Colosseum  erected  for  that  purpose.  Thous- 
ands of  wind  and  stringed  instruments.  Twelve  thousand  trained  voices.  The 
masterpieces  of  all  ages  rendered,  hour  after  hour,  and  day  after  day — Han- 
del's "Judas  Maccabaeus,"  Sphor's  "  Last  Judgment,"  Beethoven's  "Mount  of 
Olives,"  "Haydn's  "Creation,"  Mendelssohn's  "Elijah,"  Meyerbeer's  "Corona- 
tion March,"  rolling  on  and  up  in  surges  that  billowed  against  the  heavens. 
The  mighty  cadences  within  were  accompanied  on  the  outside  by  the  ringing 
of  the  bells  of  the  city  and  cannon  on  the  commons,  in  exact  time  with  the 
music,  discharged  by  electricity,  thundering 
their  awful  bars  of  a  harmony  that  astounded 
all  nations.  Sometimes  I  bowed  my  head 
and  wept.  Sometimes  I  stood  up  in  the  en- 
chantment, and  sometimes  the  effect  was  so 
overpowering    I    felt  I  could   not   endure    it. 

When  all  the  voices  were  in  full  chorus, 
and  all  the  batons  in  full  wave,  and  all  the 
orchestra  in  full  triumph,  and  a  hundred 
anvils  under  mighty  hammers  were  in  full 
clang,  and  all  the  towers  of  the  city  rolled 
in  their  majestic  sweetness,  and  the  whole 
building  quaked  with  the  boom  of  thirty 
cannon,  Parepa  Rosa,  with  a  voice  that  will 
never  again  be  equalled  on  earth  until  the 
archangelic  voice  proclaims  that  time  shall 
be  no  longer,  rose  above  all  other  sounds  in 
her  rendering  of  our  national  air,  the  Star- 
Spangled    Banner.      It  was  too  much    for    ; 

mortal,  and  quite  enough  for  an  immortal,  to  hear,  and  while  some  fainted,  one 
womanly  spirit,  released  under  its  power,  sped  away  to  be  with  God. 

O  Lord,  our  God,  quickly  usher  in  the  whole  world's  peace  jubilee;  let 
all  islands  of  the  sea  join  the  five  continents,  and  all  the  voices  and  musical 
instruments  of  all  nations  combine,  and  all  the  organs  that  ever  sounded 
requiem  of  sorrow  sound  only  a  grand  march  of  joy,  and  all  the  bells  that 
tolled  for  burial  ring  for  resurrection,  and  all  the  cannon  that  ever  hurled 
death  across  the  nations  sound  to  eternal  victory,  and  over  all  the  acclaim  of 
earth  and  minstrelsy  of  heaven  there  will  be  heard  one  voice  sweeter  and 
mightier  than  any  human  or  angelic  voice,  a  voice  once  full  of  tears,  but  then 
full  of  triumph,  the  voice  of  Christ  saying :  "  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the 
beginning  and  the  end,  the  first  and  the  last."  Then,  at  the  laying  of  the 
top-stone  of  the  world's  history,  the  same  voices  shall  be  heard  as  when  at  the 
laying  ot  the  world's  corner-stone,  "  the  morning  stars  sang  together." 


»/(&«, 


AT  THE  CROSS. 


jForttDtini  pjoneg. 


BAD   LITERATURE,    STOGK    GAMBLING,    CARD   PLAYING, 
FARO    AND    STRONG    DRINK. 

ARVELXOUSL/V  ingenious  in  architecture  is  the 
honey-bee,  a  Christopher  Wren  among  insects,  a  ge- 
ometer drawing  hexagons  and  pentagons,  a  free- 
booter robbing  the  fields  of  pollen  and  aroma, 
a  wondrous  creature  of  God,  whose  biography, 
written  by  Huber  and  Swammerdam,  is  an  enchant- 
ment for  any  lover  of  nature.  Virgil  celebrated 
the  bee  in  his  fable  of  Aristaeus,  and  Moses,  and 
Samuel,  and  David,  and  Solomon,  and  Jeremiah, 
and  Ezekiel,  and  St.  John  used  the  delicacies  of  bee  manu- 
facture as  a  Bible  symbol.  A  miracle  of  formation  is  the 
bee :  five  eyes,  two  tongues,  the  outer  having  a  sheath  of 
protection  hairs  on  all  sides  of  its  tiny  body  to  brush  up 
the  particles  of  flowers ;  its  flight  so  straight  that  all  the 
world  knows  of  the  bee-line.  The  honey-comb  is  a  palace 
such  as  no  one  but  God  could  plan,  and  the  honey-bee  con- 
struct ;  cells  sometimes  a  dormitory,  and  sometimes  a  store- 
house, and  sometimes  a  cemetery.  These  winged  toilers  first 
make  eight  strips  of  wax,  and  by  their  antennae,  which  are 
to  them  hammer,  and  chisel,  and  square,  and  plumb-line, 
fashion  them  for  use.  Two  and  two,  these  workers  shape 
the  wall.  If  an  accident  happen  they  put  up  buttresses  or  extra  beams  to 
remedy  the  damage.  When,  about  the  year  1776,  an  insect,  before  unknown, 
in  the  night  time  attacked  the  bee-hives  all  over  Europe,  and  the  men  who 
owned  them  were  in  vain  trying  to  plan  something  to  keep  out  the  invader 
that  was  the  terror  of  the  bee-hives  of  the  continent,  it  was  found  that  every- 
where the  bees  had  arranged  for  their  own  protection,  and  built  before  theii 
honey-combs  an  especial  wall  of  wax,  with  port-hole  through  which  the  bees 
might  go  to  and  fro,  but  not  large  enough  to  admit  the  winged  combatant, 
called  the  sphinx  atropos. 

Do  you  know  that  the  swarming  of  the  bees  is  divinely  directed  ?  The 
mother  bee  starts  for  a  new  home,  and  because  of  this  the  other  bees  of  the 
hive  get  into  some  excitement,  which  raises  the  heat  of  the  hive  some  foul 
degrees,  and  they  must  die  unless  they  leave  their  heated  apartments,  and 
Ihey  follow  the  mother  bee  and   alight   on   the  branch  of  a   tree,  and  cling  to 

(352, 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  353 

each  other  and  hold  on  until  a  committee  of  two  or  three  have  explored  the 
region  and  found  the  hollow  of  a  tree  or  rock  not  far  off  from  a  stream  of 
water,  and  they  here  set  up  a  new  colony  and  ply  their  aromatic  industries, 
and  give  themselves  to  the  manufacture  of  the  saccharine  edible.  But  who 
can  tell  the  chemistry  of  that  mixture  of  sweetness,  part  of  it  the  very  life  of 
the  bee  and  part  of  it  the  life  of  the  fields  ? 

THE    FORBIDDEN    HONEY. 

Plenty  of  this  luscious  product  was  hanging  in  the  woods  of  Bethaven 
during  the  time  of  Saul  and  Jonathan.  Their  army  was  in  pursuit  of  an 
enemy  that  by  God's  command  must  be  exterminated.  The  soldiery  were 
positively  forbidden  to  stop  to  eat  anything  until  the  work  was  done.  If  they 
disobeyed  they  were  accursed.  Coming  through  the  woods  they  found  a  place 
where  the  bees  had  been  busy — a  great  honey  manufactory.  Honey  gathered 
in  the  hollow  of  trees  until  it  had  overflowed  upon  the  ground  in  great  profu- 
sion of  sweetness.  All  the  army  obeyed  orders  and  touched  it  not,  save 
Jonathan,  and  he,  not  knowing  the  military  order  about  abstinence,  dipped  the 
end  of  a  stick  he  had  in  his  hand  into  the  candied  liquid,  and  as,  yellow,  and 
brown,  and  tempting,  it  glowed  on  the  end  of  the  stick,  he  put  it  to  his  mouth 
and  ate  the  honey.  Judgment  fell  upon  him,  and  but  for  special  intervention 
he  would  have  been  slain.  Jonathan  announces  his  awful  mistake  thus :  "  I 
did  but  taste  a  little  honey  with  the  end  of  the  rod  that  was  in  my  hand, 
and,  lo,  I  must  die." 

Alas,  what  multitudes  of  people  in  all  ages  have  been  damaged  by  for- 
bidden honey — by  which  I  mean  temptation — delicious  and  attractive,  but 
damaging  and  destructive. 

Literature,  fascinating  but  deathful,  comes  in  this  category.  Where  one 
good,  honest,  healthful  book  is  read  now  there  are  one  hundred  made  up  of 
rhetorical  trash  consumed  with  avidity.  When  the  boy  on  cars  conies  through 
with  a  pile  of  publications,  look  over  the  titles  and  notice  that  nine  out  of  ten 
of  the  books  are  depleting  and  injurious.  All  the  way  from  New  York  to 
Chicago  or  New  Orleans,  notice  that  objectionable  books  dominate.  Taste  for 
pure  literature  is  poisoned  by  this  scum  of  the  publishing  house.  Every  book 
in  which  sin  triumphs  over  virtue,  or  in  which  a  glamour  is  thrown  over  dis- 
sipation, or  which  leaves  you  at  its  last  line  with  less  respect  for  the  marriage 
institution,  and  less  abhorrence  for  the  paramour,  is  a  depression  of  your  own 
moral  character.  The  book  binding  may  be  attractive,  and  the  plot  dramatic 
and  startling,  and  the  style  of  writing  sweet  as  the  honey  that  Jonathan  dipped 
up  with  his  rod,  but  your  best  interests  forbid  it,  your  moral  safety  forbids  it, 
your  God  forbids  it,  and  one  taste  of  it  may  lead  to  such  bad  results  that  you 
may  have  to  say  at  the  close  of  the  experiment,  or  at  the  close  of  a  mis- 
improved  lifetime:  "I  did  but  taste  a  little  honey  with  the  rod  that  was  in 
my  hand,  and,  lo,  I  must  die." 
23 


(354) 


the  forbidden  book.— From  the  Painting  by  M.  Karel  Ooms. 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


355 


CORRUPT  INFLUENCE  OF  BAD  BOOKS. 
Corrupt  literature  is  doing  more  to-day  for  the  disruption  of  domestic  life 
than  any  other  cause.  Elopements,  marital  intrigues,  sly  correspondence, 
fictitious  names  given  at  post-office  windows,  clandestine  meetings  in  parks, 
and  at  ferry  gates,  and  in  hotel  parlors,  and  conjugal  perjuries  are  among  the 
damnable  results.  When  a  woman,  young  or  old,  gets  her  head  thoroughly 
stuffed  with  the  modern  novel  she  is  in  appalling  peril.  But  some  one  will 
say :  "  The  heroes  are  so  adroitly  knavish,  and  the  persons  so  bewitchingly 
untrue,  and  the  turn  of  the  story  so  exquisite,  and  all  the  characters  so 
enrapturing,  I  cannot  quit  them."  My  brother,  my  sister,  you  can  find  styles 
of  literature  just  as  charming  that 
will  elevate  and  purify,  and  ennoble, 
and  Christianize  while  they  please. 
The  devil  does  not  own  all  the  honey. 
There  is  a  wealth  of  good  books 
coming  forth  from  our  publishing 
houses  that  leaves  no  excuse  for  the 
choice  of  that  which  is  debauching 
to  body,  mind  and  soul.  Go  to  some 
intelligent  men  or  women,  and  ask 
for  a  list  of  books  that  will  be 
strengthening  to  your  mental  and 
moral  condition.  Life  is  so  short 
and  your  time  for  improvement  so 
abbreviated,  that  you  cannot  afford 
to  fill  up  with  husks,  and  cinders, 
and    debris.     In    the    interstices    of 

• 

business  that  young  man  is  reading 
that  which  will  prepare  him  to  be  a 
merchant  prince,  and  that  young 
woman  is  filling  her  mind  with  an 
intelligence  that  will  yet  either  make 
her  the  chief  attraction  of  a  good 
man's  home,  or  give  her  an  independ- 
ence of  character  that  will  qualify 
her  to  build  her  own  home  and  maintain  it  in  a  happiness  that  requires  no 
augmentation  from  any  of  our  rougher  sex.  That  young  man  or  young 
woman  can,  by  the  right  literary  and  moral  improvement  of  the  spare  ten 
minutes  here  or  there  in  every  day,  rise  head  and  shoulders  in  prosperity, 
and  character,  and  influence  above  the  loungers  who  read  nothing  or  that 
which  bedwarfs.  See  all  the  forests  of  good  American  literature  dripping 
with  honey.  Why  pick  up  the  honey-combs  that  have  in  them  the  fiery 
bees  which   will    sting   you  with    an    eternal    poison    while   you  taste  it?     One 


THE  NOVEI,  READER. 


356  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

book  may  for  you  or  me  decide  everything  for  this  world  or  the  next.  It 
was  a  turning  point  with  me  when  in  Wynkoop's  book  store,  Syracuse,  one 
day  I  picked  up  a  book  called  "  The  Beauties  of  Ruskin."  It  was  only  a 
book  of  extracts,  but  it  was  all  pure  honey,  and  I  was  not  satisfied 
until  I  had  purchased  all  his  works,  at  that  time  expensive  beyond  an  easy 
capacity  to  own  them,  and  what  a  heaven  I  -went  through  in  reading  his 
"  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture,"  and  his  "  Stones  of  Venice."  It  is  impossible 
for  me  to  describe  except  by  saying  that  it  gave  me  a  rapture  for  good  books, 
and  an  everlasting  disgust  for  decrepit  or  immoral  books  that  will  last  me 
while  my  immortal  soul  lasts.  All  around  the  Church  and  the  world  to-day 
there  are  busy  hives  of  intelligence  occupied  by  authors  and  authoresses  from 
whose  pens  drip  a  distillation  which  is  the  very  nectar  of  heaven,  and  why 
will  you  thrust  your  rod  of  inquisitiveness  into  the  deathful  saccharine  of 
perdition  ? 

THE   FALSE   HONEY   OF    STIMULANTS. 

Stimulating  liquids  also  come  into  the  category  of  temptations  delicious 
but  deathful.  You,  say :  "  I  cannot  bear  the  taste  of  intoxicating  liquor,  and 
how  any  man  can  like  it  is  to  me  an  amazement."  Well  then,  it  is  no  credit 
to  you  that  you  do  not  take  it.  Do  not  brag  about  your  total  abstinence,  be- 
cause it  is  not  from  any  principle  that  you  reject  alcoholism,  but  for  the  same 
reason  that  you  would  reject  certain  styles  of  food — you  simply  don't  like  the 
taste  of  them.  But  multitudes  of  people  have  a  natural  fondness  for  all  kinds 
of  intoxicants.  They  like  it  so  much  that  it  makes  them  smack  their  lips  to 
look  at  it.  They  are  dyspeptic,  and  they  take  it  to  aid  digestion;  or  they  are 
annoyed  by  insomnia,  and  they  take  it  to  produce  sleep;  or  they  are  troubled, 
and  they  take  it  to  make  them  oblivious ;  or  they  feel  good  and  they  must 
celebrate  their  hilarity.  They  begin  with  mint  julep  sucked  through  two  straws 
on  the  Long  Branch  piazza  and  end  in  the  ditch,  taking  from  a  jug  a  liquid 
half  kerosene  and  half  whiskey.  They  not  only  like  it,  but  it  is  an  all-con- 
suming passion  of  body,  mind  and  soul,  and  after  a  while  have  it  they  will, 
though  one  wine-glass  of  it  should  cost  the  temporal  and  eternal  destruction 
of  themselves,  and  all  their  families,  and  the  whole  human  race.  They  would 
say:  "I  am  sorry  it  is  going  to  cost  me,  and  my  family,  and  all  the  world's 
population  so  very  much,  but  here  it  goes  to  my  lips,  and  now  let  it  roll  over 
my  parched  tongue  and  down  my  heated  throat,  the  sweetest,  the  most  inspir- 
ing, the  most  rapturous  thing  that  ever  thrilled  mortal  or  immortal." 

To  cure  the  habit  before  it  comes  to  its  last  stages,  various  plans  were 
tried  in  olden  times.  This  plan  was  recommended  in  the  books :  When  a 
man  wanted  to  reform  he  put  shot  or  bullets  into  the  cup  or  glass  of  strong 
drink — one  additional  shot  or  bullet  each  day,  that  displaced  so  much  liquor. 
Bullet  after  bullet  added  day  by  day,  of  course  the  liquor  became  less  and  less 
until  the  bullets  would  entirely  fill  up  the  glass  and  there  was  no  room  for 
the  liquid,  and  by  that  time  it  was  said  the  inebriate  would  be  cured.     Whether 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


357 


any  one  ever  was  cured  in  that  way  I  know  not,  but  by  long  experiment  it  is 
found  that  the  only  way  is  to  stop  short  off,  and  when  a  man  does  that  he 
needs  God  to  help  him.  And  there  have  been  more  cases  than  you  can  count 
when  God  has  so  helped  the  man  that  he  quit  forever,  and  I  could  count  a 
score  of  them  to-day,  some  of  them  pillars  iu  the  house  of  God. 


drunk — after  the  feast,     "your  little  bill,  sir." — From  the  Painting  by  F.  Dadd. 

One  would  suppose  that  men  would  take  warning  from  some  of  the  ominous 
names  given  to  the  intoxicants,  and  stand  off  from  the  devastating  influence. 
You  have  noticed,  for  instance,  that  some  of  the  restaurants  are  called  "  The 
Shades,"  typical  of  the  fact  that  it  puts  a  man's  reputation  in  the  shade,  and 
his  morals  in  the  shade,  and  his  prosperity  in  the  shade,  and  his  wife  and 
children  in  the  shade,  and    his  immortal  destiny  in  the  shade. 

Now,  I  find  on  some  of  the    liquor    signs    in  all    of  our    cities    the    words 


353 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


"  Old  Crow,"  mightly  suggestive  of  a  carcass  and  the  filthy  raven  that  swoops 
upon  it.  "Old  Crow!"  Men  and  women  without  numbers  slain  of  rum,  but 
unburied,  and  this  evil  is  pecking  at  their  glazed  eyes,  and  pecking  at  their 
bloated  cheek,  and  pecking  at  their  destroyed  manhood  and  womanhood,  thrust- 
ing beak  and  claw  into  the  mortal  remains  of  what  was  once  gloriously  alive, 
but  now  morally  dead.  "  Old  Crow  !"  But  alas,  how  many  take  no  warning. 
They  make  me  think  of  Caesar  on  his  way  to  assassination,   fearing   nothing; 


The  gamesters. — From  the  Painting  of  A.  Paoletti. 

though  his  statue  in  the  hall  crashed  into  fragments  at  his  feet,  and  a  scroll 
containing  the  names  of  the  conspirators  was  thrust  into  his  hands,  yet  walk- 
ing right  on  to  meet  the  dagger  that  was  to  take  his  life.  This  infatuation  of 
strong  drink  is  so  mighty  in  many  a  man  that  though  his  fortunes  are  crash- 
ing, and  his  health  is  crashing,  and  his  domestic  interests  are  crashing,  and 
we  hand  him  a  long  scroll  containing  the  names  of  perils  that  await  him,  he 
goes  straight  on  to  physical,  and  mental,  and  moral  assassination.     In   propor- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  359 

tion  as  any  style  of  alcoholism  is  pleasant  to  your  taste,  and  stimulating  to 
your  nerves,  and  for  a  time  delightful  to  all  your  physical  and  mental  consti- 
tution, is  the  peril  awful !  Remember  Jonathan  and  the  forbidden  honey  in  the 
woods    of  Bethaven. 

Furthermore,  the  gamester's  indulgence  must  be  put  in  the  list  of  tempta- 
tions delicious  but  destructive.  I  have  crossed  the  ocean  eight  times,  and 
always  one  of  the  best  rooms  has,  from  morning  till  late  at  night,  beenxgiven 
up  to  gambling  practices.  I  heard  of  many  men  who  went  on  board  with 
money  enough  for  a  European  excursion  who  landed  without  money  enough  to 
get  their  baggage  up  to  the  hotel  or  railroad  station.  To  many  there  is  a 
complete  fascination  in  games  of  hazard,  or  the  risking  of  money  on  possibili- 
ties. It  seems  as  natural  for  them  to  bet  as  to  eat.  Indeed,  the  hunger  for 
food  is  often  overpowered  with  the  hunger  for  wagers,  as  in  the  case  of  Lord 
Sandwich,  a  persistent  gambler,  who,  not  being  willing  to  leave  the  dice  table 
long  enough  for  the  taking  of  food,  invented  a  preparation  of  food  that  he  could 
take  without  stopping  the  game,  namely,  a  slice  of  beef  between  two  slices  or 
bread,  which  was  named  after  Lord  Sandwich.  It  is  absurd  for  those  of  us 
who  have  never  felt  the  fascination  of  the  wager  to  speak  slightingly  of  the 
temptation.  It  has  slain  a  multitude  of  intellectual  and  moral  giants,  men  and 
women,  stronger  than  you  or  I.  Down  under  its  power  went  glorious  Oliver 
Goldsmith,  and  Gibbon,  the  historian,  and  Charles  Fox,  the  statesman,  and  in 
olden  times  famous  Senators  of  the  United  States,  who  used  to  be  as  regularly 
at  the  gambling  house  all  night  as  they  were  in  the  halls  of  legislation  by  day. 

FARO    AND     CARD    PLAYING.  * 

Oh,  the  tragedies  of  the  faro  table !  I  know  persons  who  began  with  a 
slight  stake  in  a  ladies'  parlor,  and  ended  with  the  suicide's  pistol  at  Monte 
Carlo.  They  played  with  the  square  pieces  of  bone  with  black  marks  on  them, 
not  knowing  that  Satan  was  playing  for  their  bones  at  the  same  time,  and  was 
sure  to  sweep  all  the  stakes  off  on  his  side  of  the  table.  The  New  York 
Legislature  recently  sanctioned  the  mighty  evil  by  passing  a  law  for  its 
defense  at  the  race-tracks,  and  many  young  men  in  these  cities  lost  all  their 
wages  at  Coney  Island  and  were  tempted  into  borrowing  from  the  money 
tills  of  their  employers  or  arranging  by  means  of  false  entry  to  adjust 
their  demoralized  finances.  Every  man  who  voted  for  the  Ives  pool  bill  has  on 
his  hands  and  forehead  the  blood  of  these  souls. 

But  in  this  connection  some  young  converts  say  to  me :  "  Is  it  right  to 
play  cards  ?  Is  there  any  harm  in  a  game  of  whist  or  euchre  ?"  Well,  I 
know  good  men  who  play  whist  and  euchre  and  other  styles  of  games  without 
any  wagers.  I  had  a  friend  who  played  cards  with  his  wife  and  children,  and 
then  at  the  close  said :  "  Come,  now,  let  us  have  prayers."  I  will  not  judge 
other  men's  consciences,  but  I  will  tell  you  that  cards  are  in  my  mind  so  asso- 
ciated with   the  temporal  and  eternal   damnation  of   splendid  young    men,  that 


30O 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


BOADICEA. 
Boadicea  was  an  Anglo,  or  British,  heroine,  queen  of  the  Iceni. 


Having  been  basely  and 


harshly  treated  by  the  Romans,  she  headed  an  insurrection,  which  destroyed  several  Roman 
settlements  and  then  reduced  London  to  ashes,  A.D.  about  60.  She  was  afterwards  defeated 
by  Paulinus,  and  being  taken  prisoner,  she  put  an  end  to  her  life  by  poison. 


I  should  no  sooner  say  to 
my  family,  "  Come,  let  us 
have  a  game  of  cards  ;"  than 
I  would  go  into  a  me- 
nagerie and  say,  "Come, 
let  us  have  a  game  of 
rattlesnakes,"  or  into  a 
cemetery,  and,  sitting  down 
by  a  marble  slab,  say  to 
the  grave-diggers,  "  Come, 
let  us  have  a  game  of 
skulls."  Conscientious 
young  ladies  are  silently 
saying :  "  Do  you  think 
card  playing  will  do  us  any 
harm?"  Perhaps  not ;  but 
how  will  you  feel  if  in 
the  great  day  of  eternity, 
when  we  are  asked  to  give 
an  account  of  our  influ- 
ence, some  man  shall  say 
to  you  :  "  I  was  introduced 
to  games  of  chance  in  the 
year  1888,  at  your  house, 
and  I  went  on  from  that 
sport  to  something  more 
exciting,  and  went  on  down 
until  I  lost  my  business, 
and  lost  my  morals,  and 
lost  my  soul,  and  these 
chains  that  you  see  on  my 
wrists  and  feet  are  the 
chains  of  a  gamester's  doom, 
and  I  am  on  my  way  to  a 
gambler's  hell."  Honey 
at  the  start — eternal  catas- 
trophe at  the  last. 

Stock  gambling  comes 
into  the  same  catalogue. 
It  must  be  very  exhilar- 
ating to  go  into  Wall  street, 
New  York,  or  State  street, 
Boston,    or     Third     street, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  361 

Philadelphia,  and  depositing  a  small  sum  of  money,  run  the  risk  of  taking 
out  a  fortune.  Many  men  are  doing  an  honest  and  safe  business  in  the 
stock  market,  and  you  are  an  ignoramus  if  you  do  not  know  that  it  is 
just  as  legitimate  to  deal  in  stocks  as  to  deal  in  coffee,  or  sugar,  or 
flour.  But  nearly  all  the  outsiders  who  go  there  on  a  little  financial  excursion 
lose  all.  The  old  spiders  eat  up  the  unsuspecting  flies.  I  had  a  friend  who 
put  his  hand  on  his  "hip  pocket  and  said  to  me  in  substance :  "  I  have  there 
the  value  of  $150,000."  His  home  is  to-day  penniless.  What  was  the  matter? 
Wall  street.  Of  the  vast  majority  who  are  victimized  you  hear  not  one  word. 
One  great  stock  firm  goes  down  and  whole  columns  of  newspapers  discuss  their 
fraud,  or  their  disaster,  and  we  are  presented  with  their  features  and  their 
biography.  But  where  one  such  famous  firm  sinks,  500  unknown  men  sink 
with  them.  The  great  steamer  goes  down  and  all  the  little  boats  are  swallowed 
in  the  same  engulfment.  Like  Boadicea  of  old,  who,  in  wreaking  her  vengeance, 
brought  destruction  on    thousands  of  innocents,  and  lastly  upon  her  own  head. 

Gambling  is  gambling,  whether  in  stocks  or  breadstuff's  or  dice  or  race- 
track betting.  Exhilaration  at  the  start,  and  a  raving  brain,  and  a  shattered 
nervous  system,  and  a  sacrificed  property,  and  a  destroyed  soul  at  the  last. 
Young  man,  buy  no  lottery  tickets,  purchase  no  prize  packages,  bet  on  no  base 
ball  games  or  yacht  racing,  have  no  faith  in  luck,  answer  no  mysterious  circu- 
lars proposing  great  income  for  small  investment,  shoo  away  the  buzzards  that 
hover  around  our  hotels  trying  to  entrap  strangers.  Go  out  and  make  an  honest 
living.  Have  God  on  your  side  and  be  a  candidate  for  heaven.  Remember  all 
the  paths  of  sin  are  banked  with  flowers  at  the  start,  and  there  are  plenty  of 
helpful  hands  to  fetch  the  gay  charger  to  your  door  and  hold  the  stirrup  while 
you  mount.  But  further  on  the  horse  plunges  to  the  bit  in  a  slough  inex- 
tricable. The  best  honey  is  not  like  that  which  Jonathan  took  on  the  end  of 
the  rod  and  brought  to  his  lip,  but  that  which  God  puts  on  the  banqueting 
table  of  mercy,  at  which  we  are  all  invited  to  sit. 

I  was  reading  of  a  boy  among  the  mountains  of  Switzerland  ascending  a 
dangerous  place  with  his  father  and  the  guides.  The  boy  stopped  on  the  edge 
of  the  cliff,  and  said :     "  There  is  a  flower  I  mean  to  get." 

"Come  away  from  there,"  said  the  father;    "you  will  fall  off." 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  must  get  that  beautiful  flower ;"  and  the  guides  rushed 
towards  him  to  pull  him  back,  when  they  heard  him  say,  "  I  almost  have 
it,"    as  he  fell  2000  feet. 

Birds  of  prey  were  seen  a  few  days  after  circling  through  the  air  and 
lowering  gradually  to  the  place  where  the  corpse  lay. 

SEEK  ONLY  THE  HONEY  OF  HEAVEN. 

Why  seek  flowers  off  the  edge  of  a  precipice  when  you  may  walk  knee- 
deep  amid  the  full  blooms  of  the  very  paradise  of  God  ?  When  a  man  may 
sit  at  a  king's  banquet,  why  will  he  go  down  the    steps    and   contend   for   the 


sacrificial  pyre  and  burning  THE  body  of  a  norse  king.— From  the  Painting  by  Wm.  Lindenschmuit. 


During  the  reigns  of  the  old  Norse  Kings  it  was  a  cu?tom,  though  seldom  observed,  when  the  king  died,  his  brxly  was  placed  on  a  large 
funeral  pyre,  to  which  were  bound  several  of  his  prominent  captives,  and  the  whole  consumed  amid  demonstrations  of  grief  from  his  subjects. 
Occasional  self-sacrifices  of  the  Queen  were  also  made  at  the  same  time,  as  represented  in  the  illustration. 

(362) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


363 


gristle  and  bones  of  a  hound's  kennel?  "Sweeter  than  honey  and  the  honey- 
comb," says  David,  "  is  the  truth  of  God."  "  With  honey  out  of  the  rock 
would  I  have  satisfied  thee,"  says  God  to  the  recreant.  Here  is  honey  gath- 
ered from  the  blossoms  of  trees  of  life,  and  with  a  rod  made  out  of  the  wood  of 
the  cross  I  dip  it  up  for  all  your  souls. 

The  poet  Hesiod  tells  of  an  ambrosia  and  a  nectar,  the  drinking  of  which 
would  make  men  live  forever,  and  one  sip  of  this  honey  from  the  Eternal 
Rock  will  give  you  immortal  life  with  God.  Come  off  the  malarial  levels 
of  a  sinful  life.  Come  and  live  on  the  uplands  of  grace  where  the  vineyards  sun 
themselves.  Oh,  taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  gracious.  Be  happy  now  and 
happy  forever.  For  those  who  take  a  different  course  the  honey  will  turn 
to  gall. 

For  many  things  I  have  admired  Percy  Shelley,  the  great  English  poet, 
but  I  deplore  the  fact  that  it  was  a  great  sweetness  to  him  to  dishonor  God. 
The  poem  "  Queen  Mab"  has  in  it  the  maligning  of  the  Deity.  The  infidel 
poet  was  impious  enough  to  ask  for  Rowland  Hill's  Surrey  Chapel  that  he 
might  denounce  the  Christian  religion.  He  was  in  great  glee  against  God  and 
the  truth.  But  he  visited  Italy,  and  one  day  on  the  Mediterranean  with  two 
friends  in  a  boat,  which  was  twenty-four  feet  long,  he  was  coming  towards 
shore  when  a  great  squall  struck  the  water.  A  gentleman  standing  on  shore 
through  a  glass  saw  many  boats  tossed  in  this  squall,  but  all  outrode  the 
terror  except  one,  that  in  which  Shelley,  the  infidel  poet,  and  his  two  friends 
were  sailing.  That  never  came  ashore,  but  the  bodies  of  two  of  the  occupants 
were  washed  upon  the  beach,  one  of  them  the  poet.  A  funeral  pyre  was  built 
on  the  sea-shore  by  some  classic  friends,  and  the  two  bodies  were  consumed. 
His  glory  went  up  with  the  flames  that  consumed  him,  like  the  funeral  pyre  of 
the  Norse  King  who  thought  to  perpetuate  his  name  on  earth  and  secure  ever- 
lasting blessing  hereafter  by  having  his  body  devoured  by  fire,  and  his  spirit 
accompanied  thither  by  the  soul  of  a  self-sacrificed  wife  and  the  burning  of 
prisoners.  Poor  Shelley !  He  would  have  no  God  while  he  lived,  and  he 
probably  had  no  God  when  he  died.  "The  Lord  knoweth  the  way  of  the 
righteous,  but  the  way  of  the   ungodly  shall  perish." 


&f)e  &rcret  of  Success. 


REVERSES   THAT  REFINE   CHARACTER  AND   ELEVATE  THE   SUFFERER. 

■£»,  OTHING  in  the  world  can  keep  a  good 
man  down.  God  has  decreed  for 
him  a  certain  elevation  to  which  he 
must  attain.  He  will  bring  him 
through  though  it  cost  Him  a  thous- 
and worlds.  .  There  are  men  con- 
stantly in  trouble  lest  they  shall 
not  be  appreciated.  Every  man 
comes  in  the  end  to  be  valued  at 
just  what  he  is  worth.  How  often 
you  see  men  turn  out  all  their  forces 
to  crush  one  man  or  set  of  men. 
How  do  they  succeed  ?  No  better  than  did  the  government  that  tried  to  crush 
Joseph.  Learn  from  the  story  of  Joseph  that  the  world  is  compelled  to  honor 
Christian  character.  Potiphar  was  only  a  man  of  the  world,  yet  Joseph  rose 
in  his  estimation  until  all  the  affairs  of  that  great  house  were  committed  to  his 
charge.  From  this  servant  no  honors  or  confidences  were  withheld.  When 
Joseph  was  in  prison  he  soon  won  the  heart  of  the  keeper,  and,  though  placed 
there  for  being  a  scoundrel,  he  soon  convinced  the  jailer  that  he  was  an  inno- 
cent and  trustworthy  man,  and,  released  from  close  confinement,  he  became 
a  general  superintendent,  of  prison  affairs.  Wherever  Joseph  was  placed — 
whether  a  servant  in  the  house  of  Potiphar  or  a  prisoner  in  the  penitentiary 
— he  became  the  first  man  \\  very  where,  and  is  an  illustration  of  the  truth  I  lay 
down,  that  the  world  is  compelled  to  honor  Christian  character. 

Chrysostom,  when  threatened  with  death  by  Eudoxia,  the  Empress,  sent 
word  to  her,  saying  :  "  Go  tell  her  that  I  fear  nothing  but  sin."  Such  no- 
bility of  character  will  always  be  applauded.  There  was  something  in  Agrippa 
and  Felix  which  demanded  their  respect  for  Paul,  the  rebel  against  government. 
I  doubt  not  that  they  would  willingly  have  yielded  their  office  and  dignity  for 
the  thousandth  part  of  that  true  heroism  which  beamed  in  the  eye  and  beat  in 
the  heart  of  the  unconquerable  apostle.  The  infidel  and  worldling  are  com- 
pelled to  honor  in  their  hearts,  though  they  ,-uay  not  eulogize  with  their  lips, 
a  Christian  firm  in  persecution,  cheerful  in  poverty,  trustful  in  losses,  trium- 
phant in  death. 

I  find  Christian  men  in  all  professions  and  occupations,  and   I    find   them 

(364) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE 


365 


respected  and  honored,  and  successful.  John  Frederick  Oberlin  alleviating 
ignorance  and  distress ;  John  Howard  passing  from  dungeon  to  lazaretto,  with 
healing  for  the  body  and  the  soul ;  Elizabeth  Fry  coming  to  the  profligate  of 
Newgate  Prison  to  shake  down  their  obduracy,  as  the  angel  came  to  the  prison 
at  Philippi,  driving  open  the  doors  and  snapping  locks  and  chains,  as  well  as 
the  lives  of  thousands  of  the  followers  of  Jesus  who  have  devoted  themselves 
to  the  temporal  and  spiritual  welfare  of  the  race,  are  monuments  of  the  Christian 
religion  that  shall  not  crumble  while  the  world  lasts. 


ELIZABETH    FRY   PLEADING    FOR   THE   PARDON    OF   CONVERTED   CRIMINALS. 

(From  the  Painting  by  Entile  lVauters.) 

A  man  in  the  cars  said :  "I  would  like  to  become  a  Christian  if  I  only 
knew  what  religion  is.  But  if  this  lying  and  cheating,  and  bad  behavior  among 
men  who  profess  to  be  good,  is  religion,  I  want  none  of  it."  But,  my  readers 
if  I  am  an  artist  in  Rome,  and  a  man  comes  to  me  and  asks  what  the  art  of 
painting  is,  I  must  not  show  him  the  daub  of  some  mere  pretender.  I  will 
take  him  to  the  Raphaels  and  the  Michael  Augelos.  It  is  most  unfair  and 
dishonest  to  take  the  ignominious  failures  in  Christian  profession  instead  of  the 
glorious  successes. 


366 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


PERSECUTIONS    BRING    ABOUT    VICTORIES. 

I  go  into  another  department  and  I  find  that  those  great  denominations 
of  Christians  which  have  been  most  abused  have  spread  the  most  rapidly. 
No  good  man  was  ever  more  vilely  maltreated  than  John  Wesley.  His  fol- 
lowers were  hooted  at  and  maligned  and  called  by  every  detestable  name  that 
infernal  ingenuity  could  invent,  but  the  hotter  the  persecution  the  more  rapid 
the  spread  of   that  denomination  until  you  know  what  a  great  host  they  have 

become,  and  what  a  tremendous 
force  for  God  and  the  truth 
they  are  wielding  all  the  world 
over.  It  was  persecution  that 
gave  Scotland  to  Presbyterian- 
ism.  It  was  persecution  which 
gave  our  own  land  first  to  civil 
liberty  and  afterwards  to  relig- 
ious freedom.  Yea,  I  may  go 
further  back  and  say  it  was  per- 
secution that  gave  the  world  the 
great  salvation  of  the  gospel. 
The  ribald  mockery,  the  hun- 
gering and  thirsting,  the  unjust 
trial  and  ignominious  death, 
where  all  the  force  of  hell's 
fury  was  hurled  against  the 
cross,  were  the  introduction  of 
that  religion  which  is  yet  to  be 
the  earth's  deliverance  from  guilt 
and  suffering,  and  her  everlast- 
ing enthronement  among  the 
principalities  of  heaven. 

The  fires  of  the  stake  have 
only  been  the  torches  which 
Christ  held  in  his  hand  by  the 
light  of  which  the  Church  has 
marched  to  her  present  position. 
In  the  sound  of  racks  and  im- 
plements of  torture  I  hear  the 
rumbling  of  the  wheels  of  the  gospel  chariot.  Scaffolds  of  martyrdom  have 
been   the    stairs   by  which    the  Church   has    ascended.     Aquafortis    is    the  best 

test  of  pure  gold. 

CRIME    WILL    OUT. 
Furthermore,  our    subject    impresses    us  that    sins  will    come    to  exposure. 
Long,  long    ago  had  these  brothers   sold   Joseph    into    Egypt.     They  had    sup- 


THE   MARTYRDOM   OF  ST.    SEBASTIAN. 

{From  the  Painting  by  Antonio  Pollainolo.) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


367 


pressed  the  crime,  and  it  was  a  profound  secret,  well  kept  by  the  brothers. 
But  suddenly  the  secret  is  out.  The  old  father  hears  that  his  son  is  in 
Egypt,  having  been  sold  there  by  the  malice  of  his  own  brothers.  How  their 
cheeks  must  have  burned  and  their  hearts  sunk  at  the  flaming  out  of  this 
suppressed  crime.  The 
smallest  iniquity  has  a 
thousand  tongues,  and 
they  will  blab  out  an 
exposure. 

Saul  was  sent  to  de- 
stroy the  Canaanites,  their 
sheep  and  their  oxen. 
But  when  he  got  down 
there  among  the  pastures 
he  saw  some  fine  sheep 
and  oxen  too  fat  to  kill, 
and  so  he  thought  he 
would  steal  them.  He 
drove  them  towards  home, 
but  stopped  to  report  to 
the  prophet  how  well  he 
had  executed  his  com- 
mission, when  in  the  dis- 
tance the  sheep  began  to 
bleat  and  the  oxen  to 
bellow.  The  secret  was 
out,  and  Samuel  said  to 
the  blushing  and  con- 
founded Saul:  "What 
means  the  bleating  of 
the  sheep  that  I  hear 
and  the  lowing  of  the 
cattle  ?  " 

Ay,  dear  reader,  you 
cannot  keep  an  iniquity 
quiet.  At  just  the  wrong 
fime  the  sheep  will  bleat 
.md    the   oxen    will    bel-  the  court  fool. 

low.     Achan  cannot  steal 

the  Babylonish  garment  without  getting  stoned  to  death.  Look  over  the  police 
arrests — these  thieves,  these  burglars,  these  adulterers,  these  counterfeiters,  these 
highwaymen,  these  assassins.  They  all  thought  they  could  bury  their  iniquity 
,so  deep  down  that  it 'would  never  come   to   resurrection.     But   there  was   some 


36S  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

shoe  that  answered  to  the  print  in  the  sand,  some  false  keys  found  in  posses- 
sion, some  bloody  knife  that  whispered  of  the  deed,  and  the  public  indignation 
and  the  anathema  of  outraged  law  hurled  him  into  the  Tombs  or  hoisted  him 
on  the  gallows. 

EASIER   TO   SIN   THAN   TO   GET   OUT   OF   IT. 

At  the  close  of  the  battle  between  the  Dauphin  of  France  and  the  Helve- 
tians, Burchard  Monk  was  so  elated  with  the  victory  that  he  lifted  his  helmet 
to  look  off  upon  the  field,  when  a  wounded  soldier  hurled  a  stone  that  struck 
his  uncovered  forehead  and  he  fell.  Sin  will  always  leave  some  point  exposed, 
and  there  is  no  safety  in  iniquity.  Francis  the  First,  King  of"  France,  was 
discussing  how  it  was  best  to  get  his  army  into  Italy.  Amaril,  the  court  fool, 
sprang  out  from  the  corner  and  said  to  the  king  and  his  staff  officers :  "  You 
had  better  be  thinking  how  you  will  get  your  army  back  out  of  Italy  after 
once  you  have  entered." 

In  other  words,  it  is  easier  for  us  to  get  into  sin  than  to  get  out  of  it. 
Whitefield  was  riding  on  horseback  in  a  lonely  way  with  some  missionary 
money  in  a  sack  fastened  to  the  saddle-bags.  A  highwayman  sprang  out  from 
the  thicket  and  put  his  hand  out  toward  the  gold,  when  Whitefield  turned 
upon  him  and  said :  "  That  belongs  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  touch  it  if  you 
dare,"  and  the  villain  fell  back  empty-handed  into  the  thicket.  Oh,  the  power 
of  conscience !  If  offended  it  becomes  God's  avenging  minister.  Do  not  think 
that  you  can  hide  any  great  and  protracted  sin  in  your  hearts.  In  an  un- 
guarded moment  it  will  slip  off  the  lip,  or  some  slight  occasion  may  for  a 
moment  set  ajar  this  door  of  hell  that  you  wanted  to  keep  closed.  But  suppose 
that  in  this  life  you  hide  it,  and  }'ou  get  along  with  that  transgression  burn- 
ing in  your  heart,  as  a  ship  on  fire  within  for  days  may  hinder  the  flame 
from  bursting  out  by  keeping  down  the  hatchways,  yet  at  last,  in  the  judg- 
ment, that  iniquity  will  blaze  out  before  the  throne  of  God  and  the  universe. 

ALL   EVENTS   LINKED   TOGETHER. 

Furthermore,  learn  from  this  subject  the  inseparable  connection  between 
all  events  however  remote.  Lord  Hastings  was  beheaded  one  year  after  he 
had  caused  the  death  of  the  queen's  children,  in  the  very  month,  the  very 
day,  the  very  hour  and  the  very  moment.  There  is  wonderful  precision  in  the 
divine  judgments.  The  universe  is  only  one  thought  of  God.  Those  things 
which  seem  fragmentary  and  isolated  are  only  different  parts  of  that  one  great 
thought.  How  far  apart  seemed  these  two  events — Joseph  sold  to  the  Arabian 
merchants  and  the  rulership  of  Egypt.  Yet  you  see  in  what  a  mysterious 
way  God  connected  the  two  in  one  plan.  So  all  events  are  linked  together. 
You  who  are  aged  can  look  back  and  group  together  a  thousand  things  in 
your  life  that  once  seemed  isolated.  One  undivided  chain  of  events  reached 
from  the  Garden  of  Eden  to  the  cross  of  Calvary,  and  thus  up  to  heaven. 
There  is  a  relation  between  the  smallest  insect  that   hums   in   the  summer  air 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


369 


and  the  archangel  on  his  throne.  God  can  trace  a  direct  ancestral  line  from 
the  bluejay  that  last  spring  built  its  nest  in  a  tree  behind  the  house  to 
some  one  of  that  flock  of  birds  which,  when  Noah  hoisted  the  ark's  window, 
with  a  whirl  and  dash  of  bright  wings  went  out  to  sing  over  Mount  Ararat. 
The  tulips  that  bloomed  this  summer  in  the  flower-bed  were  nursed  of  last 
winter's  snow  flakes.  The  furthest  star  on  one  side  the  universe  could  not 
look  to  the  furthest  star  on  the  other  side  and  say:  "You  are  no  relation 
to  me;"  for  from  that  bright  orb  a  voice  of  light  would  ring  across  the 
heavens  responding:  "Yes,  yes;  we  are  sisters."  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  in  prison 
was  playing  lawn  tennis  in  the  yard  and  the  ball  flew  over  the  wall.     Another 


a  gentleman  of  The  highway.— From  the  Painting  by  S.  E.    Waller. 

ball  containing  letters  was  thrown  back,  and  so  communication  was  opened 
with  the  outside  world,  and  Sidney  Smith  escaped  in  time  to  defeat  Bonaparte's 
Egyptian  expedition.  What  a  small  accident  connected  with  what  vast  result! 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  from  a  pattern  he  drew  on  the  back  of  a  pewter  dinner-plate, 
got  suggestions  of  that  which  led  to  the  important  invention  by  which  calico 
is  printed. 

god's  plans  beyond  our  comprehension. 

Nothing  in  God's  universe  swings  at  loose  ends.     Accidents  are  only  God's 
way  of  turning  a  leaf  in  the  book  of  his  eternal  decrees.     From  our  cradle  to 

24 


37° 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


our  grave  there  is  a  path  all  marked  out.  Each  event  in  our  life  is  connected 
with  every  other  event  in  our  life.  Our  loss  may  be  the  most  direct  road  to 
our  gain.  Our  defeats  and  victories  are  twin  brothers.  The  whole  direction 
of  your  life  was  changed  by  something  which  at  the  time  seemed  to  you  a 
trifle,  while  some  occurrence  which  seemed  tremendous  affected  you  but  little. 
The   Rev.  Dr.  Kennedy,  of  Basking    Ridge,  New  Jersey,  went  into  his  pulpit 


EXECUTION   OF   LORD    HASTINGS. 


one  Sabbath,  and  by  a  strange  freak  of  memory  forgot  his  subject  au5  forgot 
his  text,  and  in  great  embarrassment  rose  before  his  audience  and  announced 
the  circumstance  and  declared  himself  entirely  unable  to  preach  ;  then  launched 
forth  in  a  few  earnest  words  of  entreaty  and  warning,  which  resulted  in  the 
outbreaking  of  the  mightiest  revival    of  religion    ever   known  in   that    State,  a 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


37- 


revival  that  resulted  in  churches  still  standing  and  in  the  conversioiv  of  a 
large  number  of  men  who  entered  the  gospel  ministry,  who  have  brought 
their  thousands  to  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Finally,  learn  from  this  subject  that  in  every  famine  there  is  a  store-house. 
Up  the  long  row  of  buildings,  piled  to  the  very  roof  with  corn,  came  the 
hungry  multitudes,  and  Joseph  commanded  that  their  sacks  and  their  wagons 
be  filled.  The  world  has  been  blasted.  Every  green  thing  has  withered  under 
the  touch  of  sin.  From  all  continents,  and  islands,  and  zones  comes  up  the 
groan  of  dying  millions  Over  tropical  spice-grove,  and  Siberian  ice  hut,  and 
Hindoo  jungle  the  blight  has  fallen.  The  famine  is  universal.  But,  glory  be 
to  God,' there  is  a  great  store-house.  Jesus  Christ,  our  elder  brother,  this  day 
bids  us  come  in  from  our  hunger  and  beggary,  and  obtain  infinite  supplies  of 
grace,  enough  to  make  us  rich  forever.  Many  of  you  have  for  a  long  while 
been  smitten  of  the  famine.  The  world  has  not  stilled  the  throbbing  of  your 
spirit.  Your  conscience  sometimes  rouses  you  up  with  such  suddenness  and 
strength  that  it  requires  the  most  gigantic  determination  to  quell  the  disturb- 
ance. Your  courage  quakes  at  the  thought  of  the  future.  Oh !  why  will  you 
tarry  amid  the  blastings  of  the  famine  when  such  a  glorious  store-house  is 
open  in  God's  mercy  ? 


ffiogal  MomanfjootJ. 


ANGELS   OF   MERCY   THAT   FEED   THE   POOR,  COMFORT   IN   ADVER- 
SITY  AND   SPREAD   THE   BALM   OF   GRACE   OVER 
BATTLE-FIELD   AND   HOSPITAL. 

OLOMON,-  by  one  stroke,  set  forth  the  imperial  character  of  a 
true  Christian  woman.     She  is  not  a  slave,  not  a  hireling,  not 
a  subordinate,  but  a  queen  ;  and  as  such,  Solomon  sees  sixty 
of  these  helping  to  make  up  the  royal  pageant  of  Jesus.     In 
a    previous    essay,    I    showed    you    that    crown,  and    courtly 
attendants,  and  imperial  wardrobe  were  not  necessary  to  make 
a  Queen ;  but  that  graces  of  the  heart  and  life  will  give  coro- 
nation   to    any  woman.     I    showed    you    at    some    length  that 
woman's    position  was    higher    in  the  world    than    man's,  and 
that   although    she    had  often  been  denied  the    right   of  suffrage,  she 
always  did  vote  and  always  would  vote  by  her  influence  ;  and  that  her 
chief  desire  ought  to  be  that  she  should  have  grace  rightly  to  rule  in 
the  dominion  which  she  has  already  won.     I  began  an  enumeration  of 
some  of  her  rights,  and  in  this  paper  I  resume  the  subject. 

In  the  first  place,  woman  has  the  special  and  superlative  right — 
^^j|       not  again  going  back  to  what  I  have  already  written — woman  has  the 
(§|)]       special  and  superlative  right  of  blessing  and  comforting  the  sick. 

What  land,  what  street,  what  house,  has  not  felt  the  smitings  of 
disease  ?     Tens  of  thousands    of  sick  beds !     What  shall  we    do  with 
them  ?     Shall  man,  with  his  rough  hand  and  clumsy  foot,  go  stumb- 
ling around  the  sick-room  trying  to  soothe  the  distracted  nerves,  and 
alleviate  the  pains  of  the  tossing  patient  ?     The  young  man   at  college 
may    scoff  at   the    idea    of  being    under   maternal    influences ;    but    at    the    first 
blast    of  the    typhoid    fever   on    his     cheek,    he    says :    "  Where    is    mother  ? " 
Walter  Scott  wrote  partly  in  satire  and  partly  in  compliment  when  he  said : 

O  woman,  in  our  hours  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy  and  hard  to  please  ; 
When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow, 
A  ministering  angel  thou. 

I  think  the  most  pathetic  passage  in  all  the  Bible  is  the  description  of 
the  lad  who  went  out  to  the  harvest  field  of  Shunem  and  got  sunstruck — 
throwing  his  hands  on  his  temples  and  crying  out :  "  Oh,  my  head !  my  head  !" 
and  they  said  :  "  Carry  him  to  his  mother."  And  the  record  is  :  "  He  sat  on 
her  knees  till  noon,  and  then  died." 

(372) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


373 


THE   MINISTRIES   OF   HOME. 

It  is  an  awful  thing  to  be  ill    away  from  home  in  a    strange    hotel  ;    once 
in  a  while  men  coming  in  to  look  at  you,  holding  their  hand  over  their  mouth 


»*»1*b£::  ':■:".'.  '.*.; :;••-■''.-;•; '..    . 


the  queen  of  sympathy. — From  the  Painting  by  Alexander  Cabonel. 

for  fear  they  will  catch  the    contagion.     How    roughly  they    turn  you    in    bed. 
How  loudly  they  talk.      How  you    long    for   the    ministries    of  home.     I  knew 


*74 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


.vyAKKI 

,1 


-_•  *»,.  -  *#>'  • 


WARRIOR   AND   WOUNDED    YOUTH 


one  such  who  went  away 
from  one  of  the  brightest 
of  homes  for  several  weeks' 
business  absence  at  the 
West.  A  telegram  came 
at  midnight  that  he  was 
on  his  death-bed,  far  away 
from  home.  By  express 
train  the  wife  and  daugh- 
ter went  westward,  but 
they  were  too  late.  He 
feared  not  to  die,  but  he 
was  in  an  agony  to  live 
until  his  family  got  there. 
He  tried  to  bribe  the 
doctors  to  make  him  live 
a  little  while  longer.  He 
said:  "I  am  willing  to 
die,  but  not  alone."  But 
the  pulses  fluttered,  the 
eyes  closed  and  the  heart 
stopped.  The  express 
trains  met  in  the  mid- 
night ;  wife  and  daughter 
going  westward — lifeless 
remains  of  husband  and 
father  coming  eastward. 
Oh,  it  was  a  sad,  pitiful, 
overwhelming  spectacle ! 
When  we  are  sick  we 
want  to  be  sick  at  home. 
When  the  time  comes  for 
us  to  die,  we  want  to  die 
at  home.  The  room  may 
be  very  humble,  and  the 
faces  thit  look  into  ours 
may  be  very  plain ;  but 
who  ":ares  for  that  ?  Lov- 
ing hands  to  bathe  the 
temples.  Loving  voices 
So  speak  good  cheer.  Lov- 
ing lips  to  read  the  com- 
forting promises  of  Jesus. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  375 

In  our  last  dreadful  war  men  cast  the  cannon;  men  fashioned  the  musketry; 
men  cried  to  the  hosts:  "Forward,  march!"  men  hurled  their  battalions  on  the 
sharp  edges  of  the  enemy,  crying :  "  Charge  !  charge  !"  but  woman  scraped  the 
lint ;  woman  administered  the  cordials  ;  woman  watched  by  the  dying  couch ; 
woman  wrote  the  last  message  to  the  home  circle  ;  woman  wept  at  the  solitary 
burial  attended  by  herself  and  four  men  with  a  spade. 

woman's   heroism. 

We  greeted  the  general  home  with  brass  bands,  and  triumphal  arches,  and 
wild  huzzas  ;  but  the  story  is  too  good  to  be  written  anywhere,  save  in  the 
chronicles  of  heaven,  of  Mrs.  Brady,  who  came  down  among  the  sick  in  the 
swamps  of  the  Chickahominy ;  of  Annie  Ross,  in  the  cooper-shop  hospital ;  of 
Margaret  Breckinridge,  who  came  to  men  who  had  been  for  weeks  with  their 
wounds  undressed,  some  of  them  frozen  to  the  ground,  and  when  she  turned 
them  over,  those  that  had  an  arm  left  waved  it  and  filled  the  air  with  their 
"hurrah;"  of  Mrs.  Hodge,  who  came  from  Chicago  with  blankets  and  with 
pillows,  until  the  men  shouted:  "Three  cheers  for  the  Christian  Commission! 
God  bless  the  women  at  home,"  then  sitting  down  to  take  the  last  message : 
"  Tell  my  wife  not  to  fret  about  me,  but  to  meet  me  in  heaven.  Tell  her  to 
train  up  the  boys  whom  we  have  loved  so  well.  Tell  her  we  shall  meet  again 
in  the  good  land.  Tell  her  to  bear  my  loss  like  the  Christian  wife  of  a 
Christian  soldier ; "  and  of  Mrs.  Shelton,  into  whose  face  the  convalescent 
soldier  looked  and  said :  "  Your  grapes  and  cologne  cured  me."  Men  did 
their  work  with  shot,  and  shell,  and  carbine,  and  howitzer.  Women  did  their 
work  with  socks,  and  slippers,  and  bandages,  and  warm  drinks,  and  Scripture 
texts,  and  gentle  strokings  of  the  hot  temples,  and  stories  of  that  land  where 
they  never  have  any  pain.  Men  knelt  down  over  the  wounded  and  said:  "On 
which  side  did  you  fight  ?  "  Women  knelt  down  over  the  wounded  and  said : 
"  Where  are  you  hurt  ?  What  nice  thing  can  I  make  for  you  to  eat  ?  What 
makes  you  cry  ? "  To-night,  while  men  are  sound  asleep  in  their  beds,  there 
will  be  a  light  in  yonder  loft ;  there  will  be  groaning  down  that  dark  alley ; 
there  will  be  cries  of  distress  in  that  cellar.  Men  will  sleep,  and  women  will 
watch. 

FRIENDS   OF   THE   POOR. 

Again,  woman  has  a  superlative  right  to  take  care  of  the  poor.  There  are 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  them  all  over  the  land.  There  is  a  kind  of  work 
that  men  cannot  do  for  the  poor.  Here  comes  a  group  of  little  barefoot  children 
to  the  door  of  the  Dorcas  Society.  They  need  to  be  clothed  and  provided  for. 
Which  of  these  directors  of  banks  would  know  how  many  yards  it  would  take 
to  make  that  little  girl  a  dress  ?  Which  of  these  masculine  hands  could  fit  a 
hat  to  that  little  girl's  head  ?  Which  of  the  wise  men  would  know  how  to  tie 
on  that  new  pair  of  shoes  ?  Man  sometimes  gives  his  charity  in  a  rough  way, 
«.nd    it    falls  like  the  fruit  of  a  tree    in    the    East,  which  fruit    comes  down  so 


376 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


heavily  that  it  breaks  the  skull  of  the  man  who  is  trying  to  gather  it.  But 
woman  glides  so  softly  into  the  house  of  destitution,  and  finds  out  all  the  sor- 
rows of  the  place,  and  puts  so  quietly  the  donation  on  the  table,  that  all  the 
family  come  out  on  the  front  steps  as  she  departs,  expecting  that  from  under 
her  shawl  she  will  thrust  out  two  wings  and  go  right  up  toward  heaven,  from 


MOTHERLESS. 


whence  she  seems  to  have  come  down.  O  Christian  young  woman!  if  you 
would  make  yourself  happy  and  win  the  blessing  of  Christ,  go  out  among  the 
destitute.  A  loaf  of  bread  or  a  bundle  of  socks  may  make  a  homely  load  to 
carry,  but  angels  of  God  will  come  out  to  watch,  and  the  Lord  Almighty 
will    give    his    messenger    hosts    a    charge,   saying:     "Look   after  that  woman. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  377 

Canopy  her  with  your  wings  and  shelter  her  from  all  harm  ;  "  and  while  you 
are  seated  in  the  house  of  destitution  and  suffering,  the  little  ones  around  the 
room  will  whisper :  "  Who  is  she  ?  Ain't  she  beautiful  ? "  and  if  you  will 
listen  right  sharply  you  will  hear  dripping  down  through  the  leaky  roof,  and 
rolling  over  the  rotten  stairs  the  angels'  chant  that  shook  Bethlehem : 

Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

And  on  earth  peace,  good  will  to  men. 

PROTECTED   BY   GOD. 

Can  you  tell  me  why  a  Christian  woman  going  down  among  the  haunts  of 
iniquity  on  a  Christian  errand  never  meets  with  any  indignity  ?  I  stood  in 
the  chapel  of  Helen  Chalmers,  the  daughter  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Chalmers, 
in  the  most  abandoned  part  of  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  and  I  said  to  her  as 
I  looked  around  upon  the  fearful  surroundings  of  that  place :  "  Do  you  come 
here  nights  to  hold  a  service?"  "Oh,  yes,"  she  said.  "Can  it  be  possible 
that  you  never  meet  with  an  insult  while  performing  this  Christian  errand  ?" 
"  Never,"  she  said,  "  never."  That  young  woman  who  has  her  father  by  her 
side  walking  down  the  street,  an  armed  police  at  each  corner,  is  not  so  well 
defended  as  that  Christian  woman  who  goes  forth  on  gospel  work  into  the 
haunts  of  iniquity  carrying  the  Bibles  and  bread.  God,  with  the  arm  of  His 
wrath  omnipotent  would  tear  to  pieces  any  one  who  should  offer  her  indignity. 
He  would  smite  him  with  lightnings,  and  drown  him  with  floods,  and  swallow 
him  with  earthquakes,  and  damn  him  with  eternal  indignation.  Some  one 
said :  "  I  dislike  very  much  to  see  that  Christian  woman  teaching  those  bad 
boys  in  the  mission  school.  I  am  afraid  to  have  her  instruct  them."  "  So," 
said  another  man,  "  I  am  afraid,  too."  Said  the  first :  "  I  am  afraid  they 
will  use  vile  language  before  they  leave  the  place."  "  Ah,"  said  the  other 
man,  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  that.  What  I  am  afraid  of  is  that,  if  any  of  those 
boys  should  use  a  bad  word  in  that  presence,  the  other  boys  would  tear  him 
to  pieces  and  kill  him  on  the  spot."  That  woman  is  the  best  sheltered  who  is 
sheltered  by  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  you  need  never  fear  going  anywhere 
where  God  tells  you  to  go. 

SOLICITING   CHARITIES. 

It  seems  as  if  the  Lord  had  ordained  woman  for  an  especial  work  in  the 
solicitation  of  charities.  Backed  up  by  barrels  in  which  there  is  no  flour,  and 
by  stoves  in  which  there  is  no  fire,  and  by  wardrobes  in  which  there  are  no 
clothes,  a  woman  is  irresistible;  passing  on  her  errand,  God  says  to  her:  "You 
go  into  that  bank,  or  store,  or  shop,  and  get  the  money."  She  goes  in  and  gets 
it.  The  man  is  hard-fisted,  but  she  gets  it.  She  could  not  help  but  get  it. 
It  is  decreed  from  eternity  she  should  get  it.  No  need  of  your  turning  your 
back  and  pretending  you  don't  hear ;  you  do  hear.  There  is  no  need  of  your 
saying  you  are  begged  to  death.     There  is  no  need  of  your  wasting  your  time, 


(378) 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  379 

and  you  might  as  well  submit  first  as  last.  You  had  better  right  away  take 
down  your  check-book,  mark  the  number  of  the  check,  fill  up  the  blank,  sign 
your  name,  and  hand  it  to  her.  There  is  no  need  of  wasting  time.  Those 
poor  children  on  the  back  street  have  been  hungry  long  enough.  That  sick 
man  must  have  some  farina.  That  consumptive  must  have  something  to  ease 
his  cough.  I  meet  this  delegate  of  a  relief  society  coming  out  of  the  store  of 
such  a  hard-fisted  man,  and  I  say:  "Did  you  get  the  money?"  "Of  course," 
she  says,  "I  got  the  money;  that  is  what  I  went  for.  The  Lord  told  me 
to  go  in   and  get  it,  and   He  never  sends   me  on  a  fool's  errand." 

I  have  also  to  tell  you  that  it  is  a  woman's  specific  right  to  comfort 
under  the  stress  of  dire  disaster.  She  is  called  the  weaker  vessel ;  but  all 
profane  as  well  as  sacred  history  attests  that  when  the  crisis  comes  she  is 
better  prepared  than  man  to  meet  the  emergency.  How  often  you  have  seen 
a  woman  who  seemed  to  be  a  disciple  of  frivolity  and  indolence,  who  under 
one  stroke  of  calamity  changed  to  a  heroine. 

TELL   YOUR    WIFE. 

Oh,  what  a  great  mistake  those  business  men  make  who  never  tell  their 
business  troubles  to  their  wives !  There  comes  some  great  loss  to  their  store, 
or  some  of  their  companions  in  business  play  them  a  sad  trick,  and  they  carry 
the  burden  all  alone.  He  is  asked  in  the  household  again  and  again,  "What 
is  the  matter?"  but  he  believes  it  a  sort  of  Christian  duty  to  keep  all  that 
trouble  within  his  own  soul.  Oh,  sir,  your  first  duty  was  to  tell  your  wife 
all  about  it.  She,  perhaps,  might  not  have  disentangled  your  finances  or 
extended  your  credit,  but  she  would  have  helped  you  to  bear  misfortune.  You 
have  no  right  to  carry  on  one  shoulder  that  which  is  intended  for  two.  There 
came  a  crisis  in  your  affairs.  You  struggled  bravely  and  long,  but  after  a 
while  there  came  a  day  when  you  said:  "Here  I  shall  have  to  stop,"  and  you 
called  in  your  partners,  and  you  called  in  the  most  prominent  men  in  your 
employ,  and  you  said :  "  We  have  got  to  stop."  You  left  the  store  suddenly. 
You  could  hardly  make  up  your  mind  to  pass  through  the  street  and  over  on 
the  ferry-boat.  You  felt  everybody  would  be  looking  at  you,  and  blaming  you, 
and  denouncing  you.  You  hastened  home.  You  told  your  wife  all  about  the 
affair.  What  did  she  say  ?  Did  she  play  the  butterfly  ?  Did  she  talk  about 
the  silks,  and  the  ribbons,  and  the  fashions  ?  No.  She  came  up  to  the  emer- 
gency. She  quailed  not  under  the  stroke.  She  helped  you  to  begin  to  plan 
right  away.  She  offered  to  go  out  of  the  comfortable  house  into  a  smaller 
one,  and  wear  the  old  cloak  another  winter.  She  was  one  who  understood 
your  affairs  without  blaming  you.  You  looked  upon  what  you  thought  was 
a  thin,  weak  woman's  arm  holding  you  up ;  but  while  you  looked  at  that  arm 
there  came  into  the  feeble  muscles  of  it  the  strength  of  the  eternal  God.  No 
chiding.  No  fretting.  No  telling  you  about  the  beautiful  house  of  her  father, 
from   which    you   brought   her,    ten,    twenty   or   thirty   years   ago.     You    said : 


(38o) 


CONFIDENCE. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  381 

"  Well,  this  is  the  happiest  day  of  my   life.     I  am  glad  I  have  got  from  under 
my  burden.     My  wife  doesn't  care,  I  don't  care." 

woman's  opportunity. 

At  the  moment  you  were  utterly  exhausted  God  sent  a  Deborah  to  meet 
the  host  of  the  Amalekites  and  scatter  them  like  chaff  over  the  plain.  There 
are  sometimes  women  who  sit  reading  sentimental  novels,  and  who  wish  that 
they  had  some  grand  field  in  which  to  display  their  Christian  powers.  Oh, 
what  grand  and  glorious  things  they  could  do  if  they  only  had  an  opportunity! 
My  sister,  you  need  not  wait  for  any  such  time.  A  crisis  will  come  in  your 
affairs.  There  will  be  a  Thermopylae  in  your  own  household  where  God  will 
tell  you  to  stand.  There  are  scores  and  hundreds  of  households  to-day  where 
as  much  bravery  and  courage  are  demanded  of  woman  as  was  exhibited  by 
Grace  Darling,  or  Marie  Antoinette,  or  Joan  of  Arc. 

It  is  woman's  right  to  bring  to  us  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  It  is  easier 
for  a  woman  to  be  a  Christian  than  for  a  man.  Why  ?  You  say  she  is  weaker. 
No.  Her  heart  is  more  responsive  to  the  pleadings  of  divine  love.  She  is  in 
vast  majority.  The  fact  that  she  can  more  easily  become  a  Christian  I  prove 
by  the  statement  that  three-fourths  of  the  members  of  the  churches  in  all 
Christendom  are  women.  So  God  appoints  them,  to  be  the  chief  agencies  for 
bringing  this  world  back  to  Him.  I  may  say  the  soul  is  immortal.  There  is 
a  man  who  will  refute  it.  I  may  say  we  are  lost  and  undone  without  Christ. 
There  is  a  man  who  will  refute  it.  I  say  there  will  be  a  judgment  day  after  a  while. 
Yonder  is  some  one  who  will  refute  it.  But  a  Christian  woman  in  a  Christian 
household,  living  in  the  faith  and  the  consistency  of  Christ's  gospel — nobody  can 
refute  that.  The  greatest  sermons  are  not  preached  on  celebrated  platforms : 
they  are  preached  with  an  audience  of  two  or  three,  and  in  private  home  life. 
A  consistent,  consecrated  Christian  service  is  an  unanswerable  demonstration 
of  God's  truth. 

Oh,  what  a  multitude  of  women  in  heaven !  Mary,  Christ's  mother,  in 
heaven ;  Elizabeth  Fry  in  heaven ;  Charlotte  Elizabeth  in  heaven  ;  the  mother 
of  Augustine  in  heaven ;  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  who  sold  her  splendid 
jewels  to  build  chapels,  in  heaven,  while  a  great  many  others  who  have  never 
been  heard  ot  on  earth,  or  known  but  little,  have  gone  into  the  rest  and  peace 
of  heaven. 

REST   IN   HEAVEN. 

What  a  rest !  What  a  change  it  was  from  the  small  room,  with  no  fire  and 
one  window,  the  glass  broken  out,  and  the  aching  side,  and  worn-out  eyes,  to 
the  "  house  of  many  mansions"  !  No  more  stitching  until  twelve  o'clock  at  night, 
no  more  thrusting  of  the  thumb  by  the  employer  through  the  work  to  show  it 
was  not  done  quite  right.  Plenty  of  bread  at  last.  Heaven  for  aching  heads. 
Heaven  for  broken  hearts.  Heaven  for  anguish-bitten  frames.  No  more  sitting 
up  until  midnight  for  the  coming    of  staggering  steps.     No  more  rough  blows 


382 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


across  the  temple.  No  more  sharp,  keen,  bitter  curses.  Some  of  you  will  have 
no  rest  in  this  world.  It  will  be  toil,  and  struggle,  and  suffering  all  the  way 
up.  You  will  have  to  stand  at  your  door  fighting  back  the  wolf  with  your  own 
hand,  red  with  carnage.  But  God  has  a  crown  for  you.  I  want  you  to  realize 
that  He  is  now  making  it,  and  whenever  you  weep  a  tear  He  sets  another  gem 
in  that  crown,  whenever  you  have  a  pang  of  body  op  soul  He  puts  another  gem 
in  that  crown,  until,  after  a  while,  in  all  the  tiara  there  will  be  no  room  for  another 
splendor,  and  God  will  say  to  his  angel :  "  The  crown  is  done ;  let  her  up  that 
she  may  wear  it."  And  as  the  Lord  of  righteousness  puts  the  crown  upon  your 
brow,  angel  will  cry  to  angel :  "  Who  is  she  ?"  and  Christ  will  say :  "I  will 
tell  you  who  she  is.     She  is  the  one  that  came  up  out  of  great  tribulation." 

And  then  God  will  spread  a  banquet,  and  he  will  invite  all  the  principalities 
of  heaven  to  sit  at  the  feast ;  and  the  tables  will  blush  with  the  best  clusters 
from  the  vineyards  of  God,  and  crimson  with  the  twelve  manner  of  fruits  from 
the  Tree  of  Life ;  and  waters  from  the  fountains  of  the  rock  will  flash  from  the 
golden  tankards;  and  the  old  harpers  of  heaven  will  sit  there,  making  music 
with  their  harps ;  and  Christ  will  point  you  out,  amid  the  celebrities  of  heaven, 
saying:  "She  suffered  with  Me  on  earth,  now  we  are  going  to  be  glorified 
together."  And  the  banqueters,  no  longer  able  to  hold  their  peace,  will  break 
forth  with  congratulation  :  "  Hail !  hail !"  And  there  will  be  handwritings  on  the 
wall — not  such  as  struck  the  Persian  nobleman  with  horror — but  fire-tipped  fingers, 
writing  in  blazing  capitals  of.  light,  and  love,  and  victory :  "  God  hath  wiped 
away  all  tears  from  all  faces!" 


Employments  in  $$rabrn. 

OCCUPATIONS    IN    THE    CELESTIAL    WORLD    NOT    DIFFERENT 
FROM    THOSE    ON    EARTH. 

(ZEKIEL,  with    others,  had   been    expatriated,  and   while 
in    foreign    slavery,    standing    on    the    banks    of    the 
royal  canal  which   he  and   other  serfs  had   been   con- 
demned to  dig  by  the  order  of  Nebuchadnezzar — this 
royal  canal,  in  the  Bible   called   the    river  of  Chebar, 
the  illustrious  exile  had  visions  of  heaven.     Indeed,  it 
is    almost    always    so    that    the    brightest    visions    of 
heaven  come   not   to  those  who   are  on    mountain  top 
of  prosperity,  but  to  some   John  on  desolate   Patmos, 
or  to  some    Paul  in    Mamertine   dungeon,  or  to  some 
Ezekiel  standing  on  the   banks    of  a  ditch  he  had   been  com- 
pelled to  dig — yea,  to  the  weary,  to  the  heart-broken,  to  those 
whom  sorrow  has  banished. 

The  Bible  is  very  particular  to  give  us  the  exact  time 
of  the  vision.  It  was  in  the  thirtieth  year,  and  in  the  fourth 
month,  and  in  the  fifth  day  of  the  month.  So  you  have  had 
visions  of  earth  you  shall  never  forget.  You  remember  the 
year,  you  remember  the  month,  you  remember  the  day,  you 
remember  the  hour. 

The  question  is  often  silently  asked,  though  perhaps 
never  audibly  propounded :  "  What  are  our  departed  Christian 
friends  doing  now  ? "  The  question  is  more  easily  answered  than  you  might 
perhaps  suppose.  Though  there  has  come  no  recent  intelligence  from  the 
heavenly  city,  and  we  seem  dependent  upon  the  story  of  eighteen  centuries 
ago,  still  I  think  we  may  from  strongest  inference  decide  what  are  the  present 
occupations  of  our  transferred  kinsfolk. 

After  God  has  made  a  nature  He  never  eradicates  the  chief  characteristics 
of  its  temperament.  You  never  knew  a  man  phlegmatic  in  temperament  tc 
become  sanguine  in  temperament.  You  never  knew  a  man  sanguine  in  tern 
perament  to  become  phlegmatic  in  temperament.  Conversion  plants  new  prin- 
ciples in  the  soul,  but  Paul  and  John  are  just  as  different  from  each  other 
after  conversion  as  they  were  different  from  each  other  before  conversion.  If 
conversion  does  not  eradicate  the  prominent  characteristics  of  the  temperament 
neither  will  death  eradicate  them. 

(383) 


silver  and  gold. — From  the  Painting  by  Arthur  Hughes. 


(384) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


3*5 


You  have,  then,  only  by  a  sum  in  subtraction  and  a  sum  in  addition  to 
decide  what  are  the  employments  of  your  departed  friends  in  the  better  world. 
Vou  are  to  subtract 
irom  them  all  earth- 
ly grossness  and 
add  all  earthly  good- 
ness, and  then  you 
are  to  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  they 
are  doing  now  in 
heaven  what  in 
their  best  moments 
they  did  on  earth. 
The  reason  that  so 
many  people  never 
start  for  heaven  is 
because  they  coiild 
not  stand  it  if  they 
got  there  if  it 
should  turn  out  to 
be  the  rigid  and 
formal  place  some 
pious  people  photo- 
graph it. 

We  like  to  go 
to  church,  but  we 
would  not  want  to 
stay  there  till  next 
Christmas.  We 
like  to  hear  the 
Hallelujah  Chorus, 
but  we  would  not 
want  to  hear  it  all 
the  time  for  fifty 
centuries.  It  might 
be  on  some  great 
occasion  it  would  be 
possibly  comfort- 
able to  wear  a  crown 
of  gold  weighing 
several  pounds,  but 
it  would  be  an  afflic- 
tion to  wear  such  a 
25 


THE   HOf.Y  SIGN. 

It  is  said  that  when  Constantine  was  opposing  the  Christian  religion,  at  ihe  moment  of  engaging  in  bailie 
with  his  brother-in-law,  Maxentius,  lie  perceived  ihe  shadow  of  a  cross  in  the  sky  over  which  were  written  the 
words,  In  hoc  signo  vinces— **  With  this  sipn  you  will  conquer."  He  gained  the  battle  and  immediatrry 
adopted  and  established  Christianity  in  the  Roman  Empire. 


?86 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


crown  forever.  In  other  words,  we  run  the  descriptions  of  heaven  into  the 
ground  while  we  make  that  which  was  intended  as  especial  and  celebrative 
to  be  the  exclusive  employment  of  heaven.  You  might  as  well,  if  asked  to 
describe  the  habits  of  American  society,  describe  a  Decoration  Day  or  a  Fourth 
of  July,  or  an  autumnal  Thanksgiving,  as  though  it  were  all  the  time  that  way. 
I  am  not  going  to  speculate  in  regard  to  the  future  world,  but  I  must,  by 
inevitable  laws  of  inference  and  deduction  and  common  sense,  conclude  that  in 

heaven  we  will  be  just  as 
different  from  each  other  as 
we  are  now  different,  and 
hence  that  there  will  be  at 
least  as  many  different  em- 
ployments in  the  celestial 
world  as  there  are  employ- 
ments here.  Christ  is  to  be 
the  great  love,  the  great  joy, 
the  great  rapture,  the  great 
worship  of  heaven  ;  but  will 
that  abolish  employment? 
No  more  than  loves  on  earth 
— paternal,  filial,  fraternal, 
conjugal  love — abolish  earth- 
ly occupation. 

In  the  first  place,  I  re- 
mark that  all  those  of  our 
departed  Christian  friends 
who  on  earth  found  great 
joy  in  the  fine  arts  are  now 
indulging  their  tastes  in  the 
same  direction.  On  earth 
they  had  their  gladdest  pleas- 
ure amid  pictures  and  statu- 
ary, and  in  the  study  of  the 
laws  of  light  and  shade  and 
perspective.  Have  you  any 
idea  that  that  affluence  of 
faculty  at  death  collapsed  and 
perished  ?  Why  so,  when  there  is  more  for  them  to  look  at,  and  they  have 
keener  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  and  they  stand  amid  the  very  looms 
where  the  sunsets  and  the  rainbows  and  the  spring  mornings  are  woven  ? 

Are  you  so  obtuse  as  to  suppose  that  because  the  painter  drops  his  easel, 
and  the  sculptor  Ins  chisel,  and  the  engraver  his  knife,  that  therefore  that 
taste,  ',rhich    he    was    enlarging    and    intensifying    for    forty    or    fifty    years,    is 


THE  FLOWER  GATHERER. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  387 

entirely  obliterated  ?  These  artists,  or  these  friends  of  art,  on  earth  worked  in 
coarse  material  and  with  imperfect  brain  and  with  frail  hand.  Now  they  have 
carried  their  art  into  iarger  liberties  and  into  wider  circumference.  They  are 
at  their  old  business  yet,  but  without  the  fatigues,  without  the  limitations, 
ivithout  the  hindrances  of  the  terrestrial  studio. 

THE  CELESTIAL  ART   GALLERY. 

Raphael  could  now  improve  upon  his  masterpiece  of  Michael,  the  arch- ' 
angel,  now  that  he  has  seen  him,  and  could  improve  upon  his  masterpiece  of 
the  Holy  Family,  now  that  he  has  visited  them.  Michael  Angelo  could  better 
present  the  Last  Judgment  after  he  has  seen  its  flash  and  heard  the  rumbling 
battering-mms  of  its  thunder.  Exquisite  colors  here,  graceful  lines  here, 
powerful  chiaro-oscuro  here ;  but  I  am  persuaded  that  the  grander  studios  and 
the  brighter  galleries  are  higher  up  by  the  winding  marble  stairs  of  the  sepul- 
chre, and  that  Turner  and  Holman,  Hunt  and  Rembrandt,  and  Titian,  and 
Paul  Veronese,  if  they  exercised  saving  faith  in  the  Christ  whom  they  por- 
trayed upon  the  canvas,  are  painters  yet,  but  their  strength  of  faculty  multi- 
plied ten  thousand-fold.  The  reason  that  God  took  away  their  eye  and  their 
hand,  and  their  brain  was  that  He  might  give  them  something  more  limber, 
more  wieldly,  more  skilful,  more  multi pliant. 

Do  not,  therefore,  be  melancholy  among  the  tapestries,  the  bric-a-brac,  and 
the  embroideries,  and  the  water-colors,  and  the  works  of  art  which  your 
departed  friends  used  to  admire.  Do  not  say  :  "  I  am  sorry  they  had  to  leave 
all  these  things."  Rather  say  :  "  I  am  glad  they  have  gone  up  to  higher  artistic 
opportunity  and  appreciation."  Our  friends  who  found  so  much  joy  in  the 
fine  arts  on  earth  are  now  luxuriating  in  Louvres  and   Luxembourgs  celestial. 

I  feel  sure  that  all  our  departed  Christian  friends  who  in  this  world  were 
passionately  fond  of  music  are  still  regaling  that  taste  in  the  world  celestial. 
The  Bible  says  so  much  about  the  music  of  heaven  that  it  cannot  all  be 
figurative.  The  Bible  over  and  over  again  speaks  of  the  songs  of  heaven.  If 
heaven  had  no  songs  of  its  own  a  vast  number  of  ithose  of  earth  would  have 
Seen  taken  up  by  the  earthly  emigrants.  Surely  the  Christian  at  death  does 
:ot  lose  his  memory.  Then  there  must  be  millions  of  souls  in  heaven  who 
know  "Coronation,"  and  "  Antioch,"  and  "Mount  Pisgah,"  and  "Old  Hundred." 
The  leader  of  the  eternal  orchestra  need  only  once  tap  his  baton  and  all 
heaven  will  be  ready  for  the  hallelujah. 

Cannot  the  soul  sing?  How  often  we  compliment  some  exquisite  singing 
by  saying:  "There  was  so  much  soul  in  her  music."  In  heaven  it  will  be 
all  soul  until  the  body  after  a  while  comes  up  in  the  resurrection,  and  then 
there  will  be  an  additional  heaven.  Cannot  the  soul  hear?  If  it  can  hear, 
then  it  can  hear  music.  Do  not,  therefore,  let  it  be  in  your  household  when 
some  member  leaves  for  heaven,  as  it  is  in  some  households,  that  you  close 
the  piano  and  unstring  the  harp  for  two  years,  because    the   fingers    that  used 


388 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


to  play  on  them  are  still.  You  must  remember  that  they  have  better  instru- 
ments of  music  where  they  are. 

You  ask  me :  "  Do  they  have  real  harps,  and  real  trumpets,  and  real 
organs  ? "  I  do  not  know.  Some  wiseacres  say  positively  there  are  no  such 
things  in  heaven.  I  do  not  know,  but  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  the  God 
who  made  all  the  mountains,  and  all  the  hills,  and  all  the  forests,  and  all  the 
metals  of  the  earth,  and  all  the  growths  of  the  universe — I  should  not  be  sur- 
prised if  He  could,  if  He  had  a  mind  to,  make  a  few  harps  and  trumpets  and 
organs. 

Grand  old  Haydn,  sick  and  worn  out,  was  carried  for  the  last  time  into 
the  music  hall,  and  there  he  heard  his  own   oratorio    of  the  "Creation."     His- 


WHERE   THE  WOODS   LIFT  THEIR   HEADS   IN    PRAISE. 


tory  says  that  as  the  orchestra  came  to  that  famous  passage,  "  Let  there  be 
Light ! "  the  whole  audience  rose  and  cheered,  and  Haydn  waved  his  hand 
toward  heaven  and  said :  "  It  came  from  there."  Overwhelmed  with  his  own 
music,  he  was  carried  out  in  his  chair,  and  as  he  came  to  the  door  he  spread 
his  hand  toward  the  orchestra  as  in  benediction. 

Haydn  was  right  when  he  waved  his  hand  toward  heaven  and  said,  "  It 
comes  from  there."  Music  was  born  in  heaven,  and  it  will  ever  have  its 
highest  throne  in  heaven ;  and  I  want  you  to  understand  that  our  departed 
friends  who  were  passionately  tond  of  music  here  are  now  at  the  headquarters 
of  harmony.  I  think  that  the  grand  old  church  tunes  that  died  when  your 
grandfathers  died  have  gone  with  them  to  heaven. 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  389 

THE    CHURCH    MILITANT    IN    HEAVEN. 

I  believe  that  those  of  our  departed  Christian  friends  who,  in  this  world, 
had  very  strong  military  spirit  are  now  in  armies  celestial  and  out  on  blood- 
less battle.  There  are  hundreds  of  people  born  soldiers.  They  cannot  help  it. 
f  hey  belong  to  regiments  in  time  of  peace.  They  cannot  hear  a  drum  or  fife 
without  trying  to  keep  step  to  the  music.  They  are  Christians,  and  when 
they  fight  they  are  on  the  right  side.  Now,  when  these,  oar  Christian  friends, 
who  had  natural  and  powerful  military  -spirit,  entered  heaven  they  entered  the 
celestial  army. 

The  door  of  heaven  hardly  opens  but  you  hear  a  military  demonstration. 
David  cried  out :  "  The  chariots  of  God  are  twenty  thousand."  Elisha  saw  the 
mountains  filled  with  celestial  cavalry.  St.  John  said:  "The  armies  which  are 
in  heaven  followed  him  on  white  horses."  Now,  when  those  who  had  the 
military  spirit  on  earth  sanctified  entered  glory,  I  suppose  they  right  away 
enlisted  in  some  heavenly  campaign ;  they  volunteered  right  away.  There 
must  needs  be  in  heaven  soldiers  with  a  soldierly  spirit.  There  are  grand 
parade  days  when  the  King  reviews  the  troops.  There  must  be  armed  escort 
sent  out  to  bring  up  from  earth  to  heaven  those  who  were  more  than  con- 
querors. There  must  be  crusades  ever  being  fitted  out  for  some  part  of  God's 
•tominions — battles,  bloodless,  groanless,  painless.  Angels  of  evil  to  be  fought 
down  and  fought  back.  Other  rebellious  worlds  td  be  conquered.  Worlds  to 
be  put  to  the  torch.  Worlds  to  be  saved.  Worlds  to  be  demolished.  Worlds 
to  be  sunk.     Worlds  to  be  hoisted. 

Besides  that,  in  our  own  world  there  are  battles  for  the  right  and  against 
the  wrong  where  we  must  have  the  heavenly  military.  That  is  what  keeps  us 
Christian  reformers  so  buoyant.  So  few  good  men  against  so  many  bad  men, 
so  few  churches  against  so  many  grog-shops,  so  few  pure  printing  presses 
against  so  many  polluted  printing-presses ;  and  yet  we  are  buoyant  and  cour- 
ageous, because  while  we  know  that  the  armies  of  evil  in  the  world  are  larger 
in  numbers  than  the  army  of  the  truth,  there  are  celestial  cohorts  in  the  air 
fighting  on  our  side. 

I  have  not  so  much  faith  in  the  army  on  the  ground  as  I  have  in  the 
army  in  the  air.  The  military  spirits  that  went  up  from  earth  to  join  the  mili- 
tary spirits  before  the  throne — Joshua,  and  Caleb,  and  Gideon,  and  David,  and 
Samson,  and  the  hundreds  of  Christian  warriors  who  on  earth  fought  with  fleshly 
arm,  and  now  having  gone  up  on  high,  are  coming  down  the  hills  of  heaven  ready 
to  fight  among  the  invisibles.  Yonder  they  are — coming,  coming.  Did  you  not 
hear  them  as  they  swept  by  ? 

THE   MATHEMATICS  OF  HEAVEN. 

But  what  are  our  mathematical  friends  to  do  in  the  next  world  ?  They  found 
their  joy  and  their  delight  in  mathematics.     There  was    more  poetry  for  them 


39° 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


in  Euclid  than  in  John  Milton.  They  were  as  passionately  fond  of  mathematics 
as  Plato,  who  wrote  over  his  door  :  "  Let  no  one  enter  here  who  is  not  acquainted 
with  geometry."     What  are  they  doing  now?    They  are  busy  with  figures  yet. 


THE  harvest  of  the  SEA.—  From  the  Painting  by  G.  Clausen. 

No  place  in  all  the  universe  like  heaven  for  figures.     Numbers  infinite,  distances 
infinite,  calculations  infinite.     The  didactic  Dr.  Dick  said  he  really  thought  that 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  391 

the  redeemed  in  heaven  spent  some  of  their  time  with  the  higher  branches  of 
mathematics. 

Some  of  our  transferred  and  transported  metaphysicians.  What  are  they 
doing  now  ?  Studying  the  human  mind,  only  under  better  circumstances  than 
they  used  to  study  it.  They  used  to  study  the  mind  sheathed  in  the  dull 
human  body.  Now  the  spirit  is  unsheathed — now  they  are  studying  the  sword 
outside  the  scabbard.  Have  you  any  doubt  about  what  Sir  William  Hamilton 
is  doing  in  heaven,  or  what  Jonathan  Edwards  is  doing  in  heaven,  or  the  multi- 
tudes on  earth  who  had  a  passion  for  metaphysics  sanctified  by  the  grace  of  God  ? 
No  difficulty  in  guessing.  Metaphysics,  glorious  metaphysics,  everlasting 
metaphysics. 

What  are  our  departed  Christian  friends  who  are  explorers  doing  now? 
Exploring  yet,  but  with  lightning  locomotion,  with  vision  microscopic  and  tele- 
scopic at  the  same  time.  A  continent  at  a  glance.  A  world  in  a  second.  A 
planetary  system  in  a  day.  Christian  John  Franklin  no  more  in  disabled  Erebus 
pushing  toward  the  North  Pole,  Christian  De  Long  no  more  trying  to  free 
blockaded  Jeannette  from  the  ice.  Christian  Livingstone  no  more  amid  African 
malarias  trying  to  make  revelation  of  a  dark  continent;  but  all  of  them  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  taking  in  that  which  was  unapproachable.  Mont  Blanc 
scaled  without  alpenstock.  The  coral  depths  of  the  ocean  explored  without  a 
diving  bell.  The  mountains  unbarred  and  opened  without  Sir  Humphrey 
Davy's  safety  lamp. 

What  are  our  departed  friends  who  found  their  chief  joy  in  study  doing 
now  ?  Studying  yet,  but  instead  of  a  few  thousand  volumes  on  a  few  shelves, 
all  the  volumes  of  the  universe  open  before  them — geologic,  ornithologic,  con- 
chologic,  botanic,  astronomic,  philosophic.  No  more  need  of  Leyden-jars,  or 
voltaic  piles,  or  electric  batteries,  standing  as  they  do  face  to  face  with  the  facts 
of  the  universe. 

What  are  the  historians  doing  now?  Studying  history  yet,  but  not  the 
history  of  a  few  centuries  of  our  planet  only,  but  the  history  of  the  eternities 
— whole  millenniums  before  Xenophon,  or  Herodotus,  or  Moses,  or  Adam  was 
born.     History  of  one  world,  history  of  all  worlds. 

ASTRONOMERS  AND  CHEMISTS  IN  CELESTIAL  INQUIRY. 
What  are  our  departed  astronomers  doing  ?  Studying  astronomy  yet,  but 
not  through  the  dull  lens  of  earthly  observatory,  but  with  one  stroke  of  wing 
going  right  out  to  Jupiter,  and  Mars,  and  Mercury,  and  Saturn,  and  Orion, 
and  the  Pleiades — overtaking  and  passing  swiftest  comet  in  their  flight.  Her- 
schel  died  a  Christian.  Have  you  any  doubt  about  what  Herschel  is  doing? 
Isaac  Newton  died  a  Christian.  Have  you  any  doubt  about  what  Isaac  Newton 
is  doing?  Joseph  Henry  died  a  Christian.  Have  you  any  doubt  about  what 
Joseph  Henry  is  doing?  They  were  in  discussion,  all  these  astronomers  of 
earth,  about  what  the  aurora  borealis  was,  and  none  of  them  could  guess. 
They  know  now;   they  have  been  out  there  to  see  for  themselves. 


i92  THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

What  are  our  departed  Christian  chemists  doing  ?  Following  out  their 
own  science,  following  out  and  following  out  forever.  Since  they  died  they 
have  solved  10,000  questions  which  once  puzzled  the  earthly  laboratory.  They 
stand  on  the  other  side  of  the  thin  wall  of  electricity,  the  wall  that  seems  to 
divide  the  physical  from  the  spiritual  world,  the  thin  wall  of  electricity,  so 
thin  the  wall  that  ever  and  anon  it  seems  to  be  almost  broken  through — 
broken  through  from  our  side  by  telephonic  and  telegraphic  apparatus,  broken 
through  from  the  other  side  by  strange  influences  which  men  in  their  ignor- 
ance call  spiritualistic  manifestations.  All  that  matter  cleared  up.  Agassiz 
standing  amid  his  student  explorers  down  in  Brazil  coming  across  some  great 
novelty  in  the  rocks,  taking  off  his  hat  and  saying :  "  Gentlemen,  let  us  pray ; 
we  must  have  divine  illumination  ;  we  want  wisdom  from  the  Creator  to  study 
these  rocks ;  He  made  them ;  let  us  pray."  Agassiz  going  right  on  with  his 
studies  forever  and  forever. 

But  what  are  the  men  of  the  law,  who  in  this  world  found  their  chief  joy 
in  the  legal  profession — what  are  they  doing  now  ?  Studying  law  in  a  universe 
where  everything  is  controlled  by  law  from  flight  of  humnfing-bird  to  flight 
of  world — law,  not  dry  and  hard  and  drudging,  but  righteous  and  magnificent 
law,  before  which  man,  and  cherub,  and  seraph,  and  archangel,  and  God  Him- 
self bow.  The  chain  of  law  long  enough  to  wind  around  the  immensities  of 
infinity  and  eternity.  Chain  of  law.  What  a  place  to  study  law,  where  all 
the  links  of  the  chain  are  in  the  hand ! 

What  are  our  departed  Christian  friends  who  in  this  world  had  their  joy 
in  the  healing  art,  doing  now?  Busy  at  their  old  business.  No  sickness  in 
heaven,  but  plenty  of  sickness  on  earth,  plenty  of  wounds  in  the  different  parts 
of  God's  dominion  to  be  healed  and  to  be  medicated.  You  cannot  understand 
why  that  patient  got  well  after  all  the  skilful  doctors  had  said  he  must  die. 
Perhaps  Abercrombie  touched  him — Abercrombie  who,  after  many  years'  doctor- 
ing the  bodies  and  the  souls  of  people  in  Scotland,  went  up  to  God  in  1844. 
Perhaps  Abercrombie  touched  him. 

I  should  not  wonder  if  my  old  friend,  Dr.  John  Brown,  who  died  in  Edin- 
burgh— John  Brown,  the  author  of  "  Rab  and  His  Friends  " — John  Brown,  who 
was  as  humble  a  Christian  as  he  was  skilful  a  physician  and  world-renowned 
author — I  should  not  wonder  if  he  had  been  back  again  and  again  to  see  some 
of  his  old  patients.  Those  who  had  their  joy  in  healing  the  sickness  and  the 
woes  of  earth,  gone  up  to  heaven,  are  come  forth  again  for  benignant  medica- 
ment. 

But  what  are  our  friends  who  found  their  chief  joy  in  conversation  and  in 
sociality  doing  now?     In  brighter  conversation  there  and   in  grander  sociality. 

A  WONDERFUL   PLACE  TO  VISIT. 

What  a  place  to  visit  in,  where  your  next  door  neighbors  are  kings  and 
queens.     You   yourselves    kingly  and   queenly.      If  they  want    to    know   more 


(393) 


394  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

particularly  about  the  first  paradise,  they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask  Adam. 
If  they  want  to  know  how  the  sun  and  the  moon  halted,  they  have  only  to  go 
over  and  ask  Joshua.  If  they  want  to  know  how  the  storm  pelted  Sodom, 
they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask  Lot.  If  they  want  to  know  more  about  the 
arrogance  of  Hainan,  they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask  Mordecai.  If  they 
want  to  know  how  the  Red  Sea  boiled  when  it  was  cloven,  they  have  only  to 
go  over  and  ask  Moses.  If  they  want  to  know  the  particulars  about  the  Beth- 
lehem advent,  they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask  the  serenading  angels  who 
stood  that  Christmas  night  in  the  balconies  of  crystal.  If  they  want  to  know 
more  of  the  particulars  of  the  crucifixion,  they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask 
those  who  were  personal  spectators  while  the  mountains  crouched  and  the  heavens 
got  black  in  the  face  at  the  spectacle.  If  they  want  to  know  how  the  Hugue- 
nots suffered  at  the  hands  of  their  persecutors,  they  may  learn  the  story  from 
thousands  who  were  victims  of  Henry  II.  If  they  want  to  know  more  about 
the  sufferings  of  the  Scotch  Covenanters,  they  have  only  to  go  over  and  ask 
Andrew  Melville.  If  they  want  to  know  more  about  the  old-time  revivals,  they 
have  only  to  go  over  and  ask  Whitefield,  and  Wesley,  and  Livingston,  and 
Fletcher,  and  Nettleton,  and  Finney.     Oh  !    what  a  place  to  visit  in. 

If  eternity  were  one  minute  shorter  it  would  not  be  long  enough  for  such 
sociality.  Think  of  our  friends  who  in  this  world  were  passionately  fond  of 
flowers,  turned  into  paradise !  Think  of  our  friends  who  were  very  fond  of 
raising  superb  fruit,  turned  into  the  orchard  where  each  tree  has  twelve  kinds 
of  fruit  at  once,  and  bearing  Uruit  all  the  year  round ! 

What  are  our  departed  Christian  friends  doing  in  heaven,  those  who  on 
earth  found  their  chief  joy  in  the  gospel  ministry  ?  They  are  visiting  their 
old  congregations.  Most  of  those  ministers  have  got  their  people  around  them 
already.  When  I  get  to  heaven — if  by  the  grace  of  God,  as  I  hope,  I  am 
destined  to  go  to  that  place — I  will  come  and  see  you  all.  Yes,  I  will  come 
to  all  the  people  to  whom  I  have  administered  in  the  gospel,  and  to  the  mill- 
ions of  souls  to  whom,  through  the  kindness  of  the  printing-press,  I  am  per- 
mitted to  preach  every  week  in  this  land,  and  in  other  lands — and  to  the  friends 
who  find  pleasure,  and  I  hope  profit,  in  "  The  Pathway  of  Life."  I  will  visit 
them  all.  I  give  them  fair  notice.  Our  departed  friends  of  the  ministry  are 
engaged  in  that  delectable  entertainment  now. 

A    PLACE    OF    PERPETUAL    LABOR    OF    LOVE. 

But  what  are  our  departed  Christian  friends  who,  in  all  departments  of 
usefulness  were  busy,  finding  their  chief  joy  in  doing  good — what  are  they  doing 
now?  Going  right  on  with  their  work.  John  Howard  visiting  dungeons;  the 
dead  women  of  Northern  and  Southern  battlefields  still  abroad  looking  for  the 
wounded ;  George  Peabody  still  watching  the  poor ;  Thomas  Clarkson  still 
looking  after  the  enslaved — all  of  those  who  did  good  on  earth  busier  since 
death  than  before. 


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(395) 


396 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


The  tombstone  not  the  terminus  but  the  starting  post.  What  are  our 
departed  Christian  friends  who  found  their  chief  joy  in  studying  God  doing 
now  ?  Studying  God  yet.  No  need  of  revelation  now,  for  unblanched  they  are 
face  to  face.  Now  they  can  handle  the  omnipotent  thunder-bolts  just  as  a  child 
handles  the  sword  of  a  father  come  back  from  victorious  battle.  They  have  no 
sin,  no  fear  consequently.  Studying  Christ,  not  through  a  revelation,  save  the 
revelation  of  the  scars,  that  deep  lettering  which  brings  it  all  up  quick  enough. 
Studying    the    Christ  of  the  Bethlehem  caravansary,    the    Christ    of  .the    awful 


IN    SYLVAN   FIET.DS. 

massacre  with  its  hemorrhage  of  head,  and  hand,  and  foot,  and  side — the  Christ 
of  the  shattered  mausoleum — Christ  the  sacrifice,  the  star,  the  sun,  the  man. 
But  hark !  the  bell  of  the  cathedral  rings — the  cathedral  bell  of  heaven. 
What  is  the  matter  now?  There  is  going  to  be  a  great  meeting  in  the 
temple.  Worshippers  all  come  through  the  aisles.  Make  room  for  the  Conqueror. 
Christ  standing  in  the  temple.  All  heaven  gathering  around  Him.  Those  who 
loved  music  come  to  listen  to  His  voice.  Those  who  were  mathematicians  come 
to  count  the  years  of  His  reign.  Those  who  were  explorers  come  to  discover 
the  height  and  the  depth,  and  the  length  and  the  breadth  of  His  love.  Those 
who  had  the  military  spirit  on  earth  sanctified,  and  the  military  spirit  in  heaven, 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  397 

come  to  look  at  the  Captain  of  their  salvation.  The  astronomers  come  to  look 
at  the  Morning  Star.  The  men  of  the  law  come  to  look  at  Him  who  is  the 
Judge  of  quick  and  dead.  The  men  who  healed  the  sick  come  to  look  at  Him 
who  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions. 

A  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

One  twilight,  after  I  had  been  playing  with  the  children  for  some  time,  I 
lay  down  on  the  lounge  to  rest.  The  children  said,  "  Play  more."  Children 
always  want  to  play  more.  And,  half  asleep  and  half  awake,  I  seemed  to 
dream  this  dream :  It  seemed  to  rue  that  I  was  in  a  far-distant  land — not 
Persia,  although  more  than  Oriental  luxuriance  crowned  the  cities ;  nor  the 
tropics — although  more  than  tropical  fruitfulness  filled  the  gardens  ;  nor  Italy 
— although  more  than  Italian  softness  filled  the  air.  And  I  wandered  around, 
looking  for  thorns  and  nettles,  but  I  found  none  of  them  grew  there.  And  I 
walked  forth  and  I  saw  the  sun  rise,  and  I  said :  "  When  will  it  set  again  ? " 
and  the  sun  sank  not.  And  I  saw  all  the  people  in  holiday  apparel,  and  I 
said:  "When  will  they  put  on  workingman's  garb  again,  and  delve  in  the 
mine,  and  swelter  at  the  forge  ?  "  But  neither  the  garments  nor  the  robes  did 
they  put  off.  And  I  wandered  in  the  suburbs,  and  said :  "  Where  do  they 
bury  the  dead  of  this  great  city  ?  "  and  I  looked  along  by  the  hills  where  it 
would  be  most  beautiful  for  the  dead  to  sleep,  and  I  saw  castles,  and  towns, 
and  battlements ;  but  not  a  mausoleum,  nor  monument,  nor  white  slab  could 
I  see.  And  I  went  into  the  great  chapel  of  the  town,  and  I  said :  "  Where 
do  the  poor  worship  ?  where  are  the  benches  on  which  they  sit  ?  "  and  a  voice 
answered :  "  We  have  no  poor  in  this  great  city."  And  I  wandered  out,  seek- 
ing to  find  the  place  where  were  the  hovels  of  the  destitute;  and  I  found 
mansions  of  amber,  and  ivory,  and  gold,  but  no  tear  did  I  see  or  sigh  hear. 
I  was  bewildered ;  and  I  sat  under  the  shadow  of  a  great  tree,  and  I  said : 
"  What  am  I,  and  whence  comes  all  this  ?  "  And  at  that  moment  there  came 
from  among  the  leaves,  skipping  up  the  flowery  paths  and  across  the  sparkling 
waters,  a  very  bright  and  sparkling  group ;  and  when  I  saw  their  step  I  knew 
it,  and  when  I  heard  their  voices  I  thought  I  knew  them;  but  their  apparel 
was  so  different  from  anything  I  had  ever  seen,  I  bowed,  a  stranger  to  strangers. 
But  after  a  while,  when  they  clapped  their  hands  and  shouted :  "  Welcome ! 
Welcome !  "  the  mystery  was  solved,  and  I  saw  that  time  had  passed,  and  that 
eternity  had  come,  and  that  God  had  gathered  us  up  into  a  higher  home ;  and 
I  said :  "  Are  we  all  here  ? "  and  the  voices  of  innumerable  generations 
answered  :  "All  here  ; "  and  while  tears  of  gladness  were  raining  down  our 
cheeks,  and  the  branches  of  the  Lebanon  cedars  were  clapping  their  hands  and 
the  towers  of  the  great  city  were  chiming  their  welcome,  we  began  to  laugh, 
and  sing,  and  leap,,  and  shout:     "Home!  Home!  Home!" 

Then  I  felt  a  child's  hand  on  my  face,  and  it  woke  me.  The  children 
wanted  to  play  more.     Children  always  want  to  play  more. 


delusions 

WITCHCRAFTS,  ORACLES,  AND   FOOLISH   DEVICES   TO  DELUDE 

THE  CREDULOUS. 

HERE  are  two  modes  of  divination  by  which  the  king 
of  Babylon  proposed  to  find  out  the  will  of  God.  He 
took  a  bundle  of  arrows,  put  them  together,  mixed  them 
up,  then  pulled  forth  one,  and  by  the  inscription  on  it 
decided  what  city  he  should  first  assault.  Then  an 
animal  was  slain,  and  by  the  lighter  or  darker  color  of 
the  liver,  the  brighter  or  darker  prospect  of  success  was 
inferred. 

Stupid  delusion  !  And  yet  all  the  ages  have  been  filled  with 
delusions.  It  seems  as  if  the  .vorld  loves  to  be  hoodwinked. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  Johanna  Southcote  came 
forth,  pretending  to  nave  divine  power,  made  prophecies,  had 
chapels  built,  m  her  honor,  and  100,000  disciples  came  forth  to 
follov.  ner.  About  five  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ,'  Apol- 
lonius  was  born,  and  he  came  forth,  and  after  five  years,  being 
speechless,  according  to  the  tradition,  he  healed  the  sick  and 
raised  the  dead,  and  preached  virtue,  and,  according  to  the 
myth,  having  deceased,  was  brought  to  resurrection! 

ORACLES   AND   SIBYLS. 

The  Delphic  Oracle  deceived  vast  multitudes  of  people ; 
the  Pythoness,  seated  in  the  Temple  of  Apollo,  uttered  a  crazy  jargon  from 
which  the  people  guessed  their  individual  or  national  fortunes  or  misfortunes. 
The  utterances  were  of  such  a  nature  that  you  ~ould  read  them  any  way  you 
wanted  to  read  them.  A  genera1  going  iorth  to  battle  consulted  the  Delphic 
Oracle,  and  he  wanted  fcc  find  out  whether  he  was'  going  to  be  safe  in  the 
battle  or  killed  ::n  the  Dattle,  and  the  answer  came  forth  from  the  Delphic 
Oracle  in  sucn  words  that  if  you  put  the  comma  before  the  word  "never,"  it 
means  one  thing,  and  if  you  put  the  comma  after  the  word  "  never,"  it  means 
another  thing  just  opposite.  The  message  from  the  Delphic  Oracle  to  the 
general  was:    "Go    forth,  return  never  in  battle  shalt  thou  perish." 

If  he  was  killed,  that  was  according  to  the  Delphic  Oracle ;  if  he  came 
home  safely,  that  was  according  to  the  Delphic  Oracle.  So  the  ancient 
auguries  deceived  the  people.     The  priests   of  those  auguries,  by  the  flight  of 

(3981 


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(309) 


4oo  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

birds,  or  by  the  intonation  of  thunder,  or  by  the  inside  appearance  of  slain 
animals,  told  the  fortunes  or  misfortunes  of  individuals  or  nations.  The  sibyls 
deceived  the  people.  The  sibyls  were  supposed  to  be  inspired  women,  who 
lived  in  caves,  and  who  wrote  the  sibylline  books  afterward  purchased  by  Tar- 
quin  the  Proud.  So  late  as  the  year  1829.  a  man  arose  in  New  York,  pre- 
tending to  be  a  divine  being,  and  playing  his  part  so  well  that  wealthy 
merchants  became  his  disciples  and  threw  their  fortunes  into  his  discipleship. 
And  so,  in  all  ages,  there  have  been  necromancies,  incantations,  witchcrafts, 
sorceries,  magical  arts,  enchantments,  divinations,  and  delusions.  None  of 
these  delusions  accomplished  any  good.  They  deceived,  they  pauperized  the 
people.  They  were  as  cruel  as  they  were  absurd.  They  opened  no  hospitals, 
they  healed  no  wounds,  they  wiped  away  no  tears,  they  emancipated  no 
serfdom. 

IS   CHRISTIANITY   SIMPLY   A   DELUSION  ? 

But  there  are  those  who  say  that  all  these  delusions  combined  are  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  delusion  now  abroad  in  the  world — the  delusion  of 
the  Christian  religion.  That  delusion  has  to-day  200,000,000  dupes.  It  pro- 
poses to  encircle  the  earth  with  its  girdle.  That  which  has  been  called  a 
delusion  has  already  overshadowed  the  Appalachian  range  on  this  side  the  sea, 
and  it  has  overshadowed  the  Balkan  and  Caucasian  ranges  on  the  other  side 
the  sea.  It  has  conquered  England  and  the  United  States.  This  champion 
delusion,  this  hoax,  this  swindle  of  the  ages,  as  it  has  been  called,  has  gone 
forth  to  conquer  the  islands  of  the  Pacific ;  the  Melanasia,  and  the  Micronesia, 
and  Malayan  Polynesia  have  already  surrendered  to  the  delusion.  Yes,  it  has 
conquered  the  Indian  Archipelago,  and  Borneo,  and  Sumatra,  and  Celebes, 
and  Java  have  fallen  under  its  wiles.  In  the  Fiji  Islands,  where  there  are 
120,000  people,  102,000  have  already  become  the  dupes  of  this  Christian 
religion,  and,  if  things  go  on  as  they  are  now  going  on,  and  if  the  influence  of 
this  great  hallucination  of  the  ages  cannot  be  stopped,  it  will  swallow  the 
globe. 

Admiral  Farragut,  one  of  the  most  admired  men  of  the  American  navy, 
early  became  a  victim  of  this  Christian  delusion,  and,  seated,  not  long  before 
his  death,  at  Long  Branch,  he  was  giving  some  friends  an  account  of  his  early 
life.  He  said :  "  My  father  went  down  in  behalf  of  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment, to  put  an  end  to  Aaron  Burr's  rebellion.  I  was  a  cabin  boy  and  went 
along  with  him.  I  could  swear  like  an  old  salt.  I  could  gamble  in  every 
style  of  gambling.  I  knew  all  the  wickedness  there  was  at  that  time  abroad. 
One  day  my  father  cleared  everybody  out  of  the  cabin  except  myself  and 
locked  the  door.     He  said: 

" '  David,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?     What  are  you  going  to  be  ? r 

" '  Well,'  I  said,  '  father,  I  am  going  to  follow  the  sea.' 

" '  Follow  the  sea !  and  be  a  poor,  miserable,  drunken  sailor,  kicked  and 
cuffed  about  the  world,  and  die  of  a  fever  in  a  foreign  hospital  ? ' 


"is  IT  nothing  To  you,  all  ye  That  pass  by?"— lam.  i.  12.—  From  the  Painting  by  Frank  Dicksee. 
26  (401) 


4o2  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

" '  Oh !  no,'  I  said,  '  father,  I  will  not  be  that ;  I  will  tread  the  quarter- 
deck and  command,  as  you  do.' 

"  '  No,  David,'  my  father  said ;  '  no,  David,  a  person  that  has  your  princi- 
ples and  your  bad  habits  will  never  tread  the  quarter-deck  or  command.' 

"  My  father  went  out  and  shut  the  door  after  him,  and  I  said  then :  '  I 
will  change ;  I  will  never  swear  again ;  I  will  never  drink  again ;  I  will  never 
gamble  again  ; '  and,  gentlemen,  by  the  help  of  God  I  have  kept  those  three 
vows  to  this  time.  I  soon  after  that  became  a  Christian,  and  that  decided  my 
fate  for  time  and  for  eternity." 

SWAYING   NOBLE   INTELLECTS. 

Ah !  that  is  the  remarkable  thing  about  this  delusion  of  Christianity ;  it 
overpowers  the  strongest  intellects.  Gather  the  critics,  secular  and  religious, 
of  this  century  together,  and  put  a  vote  to  them  as  to  which  is  the  greatest 
book  ever  written,  and  by  large  majority  they  will  say  "  Paradise  Lost."  Who 
wrote  "Paradise  Lost?"  One  of  the  fools  who  believed  in  this  Bible,  John 
Milton.  Benjamin  Franklin  surrendered  to  this  delusion,  if  you  may  judge 
from  the  letter  that  he  wrote  to  Thomas  Paine,  begging  him  to  destroy  the 
"  Age  of  Reason  "  in  manuscript  and  never  let  it  go  into  type,  and  writing 
afterward,  in  his  own  days  :  "  Of  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth  I  have  to  say  that 
the  system  of  morals  He  left,  and  the  religion  He  has  given  us,  are  the  best 
things  the  world  has  ever  seen  or  is  likely  to  see."  Patrick  Henry,  the  electric 
champion  of  liberty,  enlsaved  by  this  delusion,  so  that  he  says :  "  The  book 
worth  all  other  books  put  together  is  the  Bible."  Benjamin  Rush,  the  lead- 
ing physiologist  and  anatomist  of  his  day,  the  great  medical  scientist — what 
did  he  say  ?  "  The  only  true  and  perfect  religion  is  Christianity."  Isaac 
Newton,  the  leading  philosopher  of  his  time — what  did  he  say  ?  That  man 
surrendering  to  this  delusion  of  the  Christian  religion,  crying  out:  "The 
sublimest  philosophy  on  earth  is  the  philosophy  of  the  gospel."  David  Brew- 
ster, at  the  pronunciation  of  whose  name  every  scientist  the  world  over  bows 
his  head,  David  Brewster  saying :  "  Oh,  this  religion  has  been  a  great  light 
to  me,  a  very  great  light  all  my  days."  President  Thiers,  the  great  French 
statesman,  acknowledging  that  he  prayed  when  he  said :  "  I  invoke  the  Lord 
God,  in  whom  I  am  glad  to  believe."  David  Livingstone,  able  to  conquer  the 
lion,  able  to  conquer  the  panther,  able  to  conquer  the  savage,  yet  conquered 
by  this  delusion,  this  hallucination,  this  great  swindle  of  the  ages,  so  when 
they  find  him  dead  they  find  him  on  his  knees.  William  E.  Gladstone,  the 
strongest  intellect  in  England  to-day,  unable  to  resist  this  chimera,  this  fallacy, 
this  delusion  of  the  Christian  religion,  goes  to  the  house  of  God  every  Sab- 
bath, and  often,  at  the  invitation  of  the  rector,  reads  the  prayers  to  the  people. 
Oh,  if  those  mighty  intellects  are  overborne  by  this  delusion,  what  chance  is 
there  for  you  and  for  me  ? 

Yea,   this    awful    chimera    of  the    gospel    comes    to  the   poor,   and  it   says 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


403 


to    them:    "You   are   on   your   way   to   vast   estates    and   to   dividends   always 
declarable." 

This  delusion  or  Christianity  comes  to  the  bereft,  and  it  talks  of  re-union 
before  the  throne,  and  of  the  cessation  of  all  sorrow.     And  then  to  show  that 


the  flood— safe  while  jesus  watches.— From  the 


E.  Millais. 


this  delusion  will  stop  at  absolutely  nothing,  it  goes  to  the  dying  bed  and  fills 
the  man  with  anticipations.  How  much  better  it  would  be  to  have  him  die 
without  any  more  hope  than  swine  and  rats  and  snakes.  That  is  all.  Nothing 
more  left  of  him.     He  will  never  know  anything  again.      Shovel    him    under! 


4o4  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

The  soul  is  only  a  superior  part  of  the  body,  and  when  the  body  disintegrates 
the  soul  disintegrates.  Annihilation,  vacancy,  everlasting  blank,  obliteration. 
Why  not  present  all  that  beautiful  doctrine  to  the  dying,  instead  of  coming 
with  this  hoax,  this  swindle  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  filling  the  dying 
man  with  anticipations  of  another  life,  until  some  in  the  last  hour  have 
clapped  their  hands,  and  some  have  shouted,  and  some  have  sung,  and  some 
have  been  so  overwrought  with  joy  they  could  only  look  ecstatic.  Palace 
gates  opening,  they  thought ;  diamonded  coronets  flashing,  hands  beckoning, 
orchestras  sounding.  Little  children  dying,  actually  believing  they  saw  their 
departed  parents,  so  that,  although  the  little  children  had  been  so  weak  and 
feeble  and  sick  for  weeks,  they  could  not  turn  on  their  dying  pillow,  at  the 
last,  in  a  paroxysm  of  rapture  uncontrollable,  they  sprang  to  their  feet 
and  shouted:     "Mother    catch  me,  I  am  coming!" 

A    SUSTAINING    BELIEF. 

And  to  show  the  immensity  of  this  delusion,  this  awful  swindle  of  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  I  open  a  hospital  and  I  bring  into  that  hospital  the 
death-beds  of  a  great  many  Christian  people,  and  I  take  you  by  the  hand  and 
I  walk  up  and  down  the  wards  of  that  hospital  and  I  ask  a  few  questions.    I  ask : 

Dying  Stephen,  what  have  you  to  say?    "Lord  Jesus,  receive   my   spirit." 

Dying  John  Wesley,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "  The  best  of  all  is,  God  is 
with  us." 

Dying  Edward  Payson,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "I  float  in  the  sea  of  glory." 

Dying  John  Bradford,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "  If  there  be  any  way  of 
going  to  heaven  on  horseback,  or  in  a  fiery  chariot,  it  is  this." 

Dying  Neander,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "I  am  going  to  sleep  now — good- 
night." 

Dying  Mrs.  Florence  Foster,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "A  pilgrim  in  the 
valley,  but  the  mountain  tops  are  all  agleam  from  peak  to  peak." 

Dying  Alexander  Mather,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "  The  Lord  who  has 
taken  care  of  me  fifty  years,  will  not  cast  me  off  now ;  glory  be  to  God  and  to 
the  Lamb  !     Amen,  Amen,  Amen,  Amen  !  " 

Dying  John  Powson,  after  preaching  the  gospel  so  many  years,  what  have 
you  to  say  ?     "  My  death-bed  is  a  bed  of  roses." 

Dying  Dr.  Thomas  Scott,  what  have  yen  to  say  ?     "  This  is  heaven  begun." 

Dying  soldier  in  the  last  war,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "  Boys,  I  am  going 
to  the  front." 

Dying  telegraph  operator  on  the  battlefield  of  Virginia,  what  have  you  to 
say  ?  "  The  wires  are  all  laid,  and  the  poles  are  up  from  Stony  Point  to  head- 
quarters." 

Dying  Paul,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  "I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and 
the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  the  good  fight ; 
I  have  finished  my  course;    I  have  kept  the  faith."      "O  death,  where  is  thy 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


405 


sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  Thanks  be  unto  God,  who  giveth  us 
the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

O  my  Lord,  my  God,  what  a  delusion,  what  a  glorious  delusion !  Sub- 
merge me  with  it ;  fill  my  eyes  and  ears  with  it ;  put  it  under  my  dying  head 
for  a  pillow — this  delusion — spread  it  over  me  for  a  canopy  ;•  put  it  underneath 
me  for  an  outspread  wing;  roll  it  over  me  in  ocean's  surges  ten  thousand 
fathoms  deep ! 

In  an  experience   meeting,  a  gentleman,  not  long  ago,  arose  and  spoke  as 


STONING  OF  STEPHEN. 


follows :  "  On  my  way  here  to-night  I  met  a  man  who  asked  me  where  I  was 
going.  I  said :  '  I  am  going  to  prayer-meeting.'  He  said :  '  There  are  a  good 
many  religions,  and  I  think  the  most  of  them  aire  delusions  ;  as  to  the  Christian 
religion,  that  is  only  a  notion;  that  is  a  mere  notion,  the  Christian  religion.' 
I  said  to  him  :  '  Stranger,  you  see  that  tavern  over  there  ?  '  '  Yes,'  he  said, '  I 
see  it.'  '  Do  you  see  me  ? '  '  Yes,  of  course,  I  see  you.'  '  Now,  the  time  was, 
as  everybody  in  this  town  knows,  that  if  I  had  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  in  my 
pocket  I  could  not  pass  that  tavern  without  going  in  and  getting  a  drink  ;  all 
the  people  of  Jefferson    could   not  keep  me  out  of  that   place ;    but    God   has 


4o6  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

changed  my  heart,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  destroyed  my  thirst  for 
strong  drink,  and  there  is  my  whole  week's  wages,  and  I  have  no  temptation 
to  go  in  there ;  and,  stranger,  if  this  is  a  notion,  I  want  to  tell  you  it  is  a 
mighty  powerful  notion ;  it  is  a  notion  that  has  put  clothes  on  my  children's 
back,  and  it  is  a  notion  that  has  put  good  food  on  our  table,  and  it  is  a 
notion  that  has  filled  my  mouth  with  thanksgiving  to  God.  And,  stranger,  you 
had  better  go  along  with  me,  you  might  get  religion,  too;  lots  of  people  are 
getting  religion  now.' " 

But  despite  all  these  practical  benefits  of  belief  there  are  those  who  make 
answer:  "Give  me  the  world's  dollars  and  you  may  have  the  eternal  rewards. 
Give  me  the  world's  applause  and  you  may  have  the  garlands  of  God.  Give 
me  twenty,  or  forty,  or  sixty  years  of  worldly  successes,  and  I  don't  care  what 
becomes  of  the  future.  I  am  going  into  that  world  uninsured.  I  take  the  re- 
sponsibility. Don't  bother  me  about  your  religion.  Here  I  have  the  two 
worlds  before  me — this  one  and  the  next.  I  have  chosen  this.  Go  away  from 
me,  God  and  angels,  and  all  thoughts  of  the  future ! " 

SOME    RICH    FOOLS. 

But  where  is  Croesus,  and  Cleopatra,  and  ^Esopus,  who  had  one  dish  of 
food  that  cost  $1,400,000;  and  Lentulus,  who  had  a  pond  of  fish  worth  $175,- 
000 ;  and  Scaurus,  who  bought  a  country  seat  for  $29,000,000 ;  and  Tiberius, 
who  left  at  death  a  fortune  of  $118,120,000?  Where  are  they?  If  a  windy 
day  should  blow  all  the  dust  that  is  left  of  them  into  your  eyes  it  would  not 
make  you  wink  twice.  Ah,  my  readers,  then  very  certainly  your  comforts  of 
surrounding  cannot  keep  back  the  old  archer.  You  cannot  charm  him  with 
music,  or  dazzle  him  with  plate,  or  decoy  him  with  pictures,  or  bribe  him  with 
your  money. 

Well,  we  will  soon  understand  it  all.  Your  life  and  mine  will  soon  be 
over.  We  will  soon  come  to  the  last  bar  of  the  music,  to  the  last  act  of  the 
tragedy,  to  the  last  page  of  the  book — yea,  to  the  last  line  and  to  the  last, 
word,  and  to  you  aud  to  me  it  will  either  be  midnoon  or  midnight. 


Boofcs. 

GOOD   FATHER  AND   MOTHER,   WHAT    SHALL    YOUR 
CHILDREN    READ? 

AUL    once   stirred  up    Ephesus    with    some   lively   sermons 

about  the  sins  of  that  place.     Among  the  most  important 

results  was  the  fact  that  the  citizens  brought  out  their  bad 

books  and  in  a  public  place  made  a  bonfire  of  them.      I 

see  the  people  coming  out  wit'i  their  arms  full  of  Ephe- 

sian  literature,  and  tossing  it  ;  ito  the  flames.     I  hear  an 

economist  standing  by  and  saying:     'Stop  this  waste.     Here  are 

$7500  worth  of  books — do  you  propose  to  burn  them  all  up  ?    If 

you  don't  want  to  read  them  yourself  sell  them  and  let  somebody 

else  read  them." 

"  No,"  said  the  people,  "  if  thes^  books  are  not  good  for  us, 
they  are  not  good  for  anybody  else,  and  we  shall  stand  and  watch 
until  the  last  leaf  has  turned  to  ashes.  They  have  done  us  a 
world  of  harm,  and  they  shall  never  do  others  harm." 

Hear  the  flames  crackle  and  roar.  My  readers,  one  of  the 
wants  of  the  cities  of  this  country  is  a  great  bonfire  of  bad  books 
and  newspapers.  We  have  enough  fuel  to  make  a  blaze  200 
feet  high.  Many  of  the  publishing  houses  would  do  well  to  throw 
into  the  blaze  their  entire  stock  of  goods.  Bring  forth  the  insuffer- 
able trash  and  put  it  into  the  fire,  and  let  it  be  known  in  the 
presence  of  God,  and  angels,  and  men,  that  you  are  going  to  rid 
your  homes  of  the  overtopping  and  underlying  curse  of  profligate 
literature. 

The  printing-press  is  the  mightiest  agency  on  earth  for  good  and  for  evil. 
The  minister  of  the  gospel,  standing  in  a  pulpit,  has  a  responsible  position  ;  but 
I  do  not  think  it  is  as  responsible  as  the  position  of  an  editor  or  a  publisher. 
At  what  distant  point  of  time,  at  what  far-out  cycle  of  eternity,  will  cease  the 
influence  of  a  Henry  J.  Raymond,  or  a  Horace  Greeley,  or  a  James  Gordon 
Bennett,  or  a  Watson  Webb,  or  an  Erastus  Brooks,  or  a  Thomas  Kinsella  ? 
Take  the  simple  statistic  that  our  New  York  dailies  now  have  a  circulation  of 
about  850,000  per  day,  and  add  to  it  the  fact  that  three  of  our  weekly  periodicals 
have  an  aggregate  circulation  of  about  1,000,000,  and  then  cipher,  if  you  can, 
how  far  up,  and  how  far  down,  and  how  far  out,  reach  the  influences  of  the 
American  printing-press. 

(407) 


Uo8) 


4THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  409 

POWER   FOR   GOOD   OR   EVIL. 

Great  God!  what  is  to  be  the  issue  of  all  this?  I  believe  the  Lord 
intends  the  printing-press  to  be  the  chief  means  for  the  world's  rescue 
and  evangelization,  and  I  think  that  the  great  last  battle  of  the  world  will 
not  be  fought  with  swords  and  guns,  but  with  types  and  presses — a  purified 
and  gospel  literature  triumphing  over,  trampling  down  and  crushing  out  for- 
ever that  which  is  depraved.  The  only  way  to  overcome  unclean  literature  is 
by  scattering  abroad  that  which  is  healthful.  May  God  speed  the  cylinders 
of  an  honest,  intelligent,  aggressive,  Christian  printing-press. 

I  have  to  tell  you  that  the  greatest  blessing  that  ever  came  to  this  nation 
is  that  of  an  elevated  literature,  and  the  greatest  scourge  has  been  that  of 
unclean  literature.  This  last  has  its  victims  in  all  occupations  and  depart- 
ments. It  has  helped  to  fill  insane  asylums,  and  penitentiaries,  and  almshouses, 
and  dens  of  shame.  The  bodies  of  this  infection  lie  in  the  hospitals  and  in 
the  graves,  while  their  souls  are  being  tossed  over  into  a  lost  eternity,  an  ava- 
lanche of  horror  and  despair. 

The  London  plague  was  nothing  to  it.  That  counted  its  victims  by  thou- 
sands, but  this  modern  pest  has  already  shovelled  its  millions  into  the  charnel- 
house  of  the  morally  dead.  The  longest  rail  train  that  ever  ran  over  the  Erie 
or  Hudson  tracks  is  not  long  enough  nor  large  enough  to  carry  the  beastliness 
and  the  putrefaction  which  have  been  gathered  up  in  bad  books  and  news- 
papers of  this  land  in  the  last  twenty  years. 

Now,  it  is  amid  such  circumstances  that  I  put  a  question  of  overmastering 
importance  to  you  and  your  families.  What  books  and  newspapers  shall  we 
read?  You  see  I  group  them  together.  A  newspaper  is  only  a  book 
in  a  swifter  and  more  portable  shape,  and  the  same  rules  which  will 
apply  to  book  reading  will  apply  to  newspaper  reading.  What  shall  we  read? 
Shall  our  minds  be  the  receptacle  of  everything  that  an  author  has  a  mind  to 
write  ?  Shall  there  be  no  distinction  between  the  tree  of  life  and  the  tree  of 
death  ?  Shall  we  stoop  down  and  drink  out  of  the  trough  which  the  wicked- 
ness of  men  has  filled  with  pollution  and  shame?  Shall  we  mire  in  impurity 
and  chase  fantastic  will-o'-the-wisps  across  the  swamps,  when  we  might  walk 
in  the  blooming  gardens  of  God  ?  Oh,  no !  For  the  sake  of  our  present  and 
everlasting  welfare  we  must  make  an  intelligent  and  Christian  choice. 

BOOKS   THAT  ARE   GOOD. 

Standing,  as  we  do,  chin-deep  in  fictitious  literature,  the  first  question  that 
many  of  the  young  people  are  asking  me  is :  "  Shall  we  read  novels  ?"  I 
reply :  There  are  novels  that  are  pure,  good,  Christian,  elevating  to  the  heart 
and  ennobling  to  the  life.  But  I  have  still  further  to  say  that  I  believe  that 
ninety-nine  out  of  the  hundred  novels  in  this  day  are  baleful  and  destructive 
in  the  last  degree..  A  pure  work  of  fiction  is  history  and  poetry  combined. 
It  is  a  history  of  things  around  us,  with  the  licenses  and  the  assumed  names 


4io 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


of  poetry.  The  world  can  never  pay  the  debt  which  it  owes  to  such  fictitious 
writers  as  Hawthorne  and  McKenzie,  and  Landor  and  Hunt,  and  Arthur  and 
Marion  Harland.  and  others  whose  names  are  familiar   to   all.     The  follies  of 


the  wayward  daughter. — From  the  Painting  by  H.  Hilmick. 

high  life  were  never  better  exposed  than  by  Miss  Edgeworth.  The  memories 
of  the  past  were  never  more  faithfully  embalmed  than  in  the  writings  of  Wal- 
ter Scott.     Cooper's  novels  are  healthfully  redolent  with  the  breath  of  the  sea- 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIF^.  411 

weed,  and  the  air  of  the  American  forest.  Charles  Kingsley  has  smitten  the 
morbidity  of  the  world,  and  led  a  great  many  to  appreciate  the  poetry  of  sound 
health,  strong  muscles,  and  fresh  air.  Thackeray  did  a  grand  work  in  cari- 
caturing the  pretenders  to  gentility  and  high  blood.  Dickens  has  built  his 
own  monument  in  his  books,  which  are  an  everlasting  plea  for  the  poor,  and 
the  anathema  of  injustice. 

Now,  I  say,  books  like  these,  read  at  right  times,  and  read  in  right  pro 
portion  with  other  books,  cannot  help  but  be  ennobling  and  purifying ;  but 
alas  for  the  loathsome  and  impure  literature  that  has  come  upon  this  country 
in  the  shape  of  novels,  like  a  freshet  overflowing  all  the  banks  of  decency 
and  common  sense !  They  are  coming  from  some  of  the  most  celebrated 
publishing  houses  of  the  country.  They  are  coming  with  recommendation  of 
some  of  our  religious  newspapers.  They  lie  on  your  centre-table  to  curse  your 
children,  and  blast  with  their  infernal  fires  generations  unborn.  You  find 
these  books  in  the  desk  of  the  school  miss,  in  the  trunk  of  the  young  man,  in 
the  steamboat  cabin,  on  the  table  of  the  hotel  reception  room.  You  see  a 
light  in  your  child's  room  late  at  night.     You  suddenly  go  in  and  say : 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  I  am  reading." 

"  What  are  you  reading  ?  " 

"  A  book." 

You  look  at  the  book ;    it  is  a  bad  book. 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  I  borrowed  it." 

Alas,  there  are  always  those  abroad  who  would  like  to  loan  your  son  or 
daughter  a  bad  book.  Everywhere,  everywhere  an  unclean  literature.  I  charge 
upon  it  the  destruction  of  ten  thousand  immortal  souls,  and  I  bid  you  wake 
up  to  tL.2  magnitude  of  the  theme.  I  shall  take  all  the  world's  literature — 
good  novels  and  bad,  travels  true  and  false,  histories  faithful  and  incorrect, 
legends  beautiful  and  monstrous,  all  tracts,  all  chronicles,  all  epilogues,  all 
family,  city,  State  and  national  libraries — and  pile  then  up  in  a  pyramid  of 
literature,  and  then  I  shall  bring  to  bear  upon  it  some  grand,  glorious 
infallible,  unmistakable  Christian  principles. 

MORAL    AND    PHYSICAL    EFFECT. 

I  charge  you,  in  the  first  place,  to  stand  aloof  from  all  books  that  give 
false  pictures  of  human  life.  Life  is  neither  a  tragedy  nor  a  farce.  Men  are 
not  all  either  knaves  or  heroes.  Women  are  neither  angels  nor  furies.  And 
yet,  if  you  depended  upon  much  of  the  literature  of  the  day,  you  would  get 
the  idea  that  life,  instead  of  being  something  earnest,  something  practical,  is  a 
fitful  and  fantastic  and  extravagant  thing.  How  poorly  prepared  are  that 
young  man  and  woman  for  the  duties  of  to-day  who  spent  last  night  wading 
through  brilliant  passages  descriptive  of   magnificent   knavery  and  wickedness ! 


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THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  413 

The  man  will  be  looking  all  day  long  for  his  heroine,  in  the  tin-shop,  by  the 
forge,  in  the  factory,  in  the  counting-room,  and  he  will  not  find  her,  and  he 
will  be  dissatisfied.  A  man  who  gives  himself  up  to  the  indiscriminate 
reading  of  novels  will  be  nerveless,  insane  and  a  nuisance.  He  will  be  fit 
neither  for  the  store,  nor  the  shop,  nor  the  field.  He  will  always  be  looking 
out  for  some  monster  of  fable,  like  Polyphemus,  who  fed  on  human  flesh,  or  a 
fairy  looking  for  a  proper  subject  for  her  munificence. 

A  woman  who  gives  herself  up  to  the  indiscriminate  reading  of  novels 
will  be  unfitted  for  the  duties  of  wife,  mother,  sister,  daughter.  There  she  is, 
hair  dishevelled,  countenance  vacant,  cheeks  pale,  hands  trembling,  bursting 
into  tears  at  midnight  over  the  fate  of  some  unfortunate  lover ;  in  the  day- 
time, when  she  ought  to  be  busy,  staring  by  the  half  hour  at  nothing,  biting 
her  finger  nails  into  the  quick.  The  carpet  that  was  plain  before  will  be 
i  plainer  after  having  wandered  through  a  romance  all  night  long  in  tessellated 
halls  of  castles.  And  your  industrious  companion  will  be  more  unattractive 
than  ever  now  that  you  have  walked  in  the  romance  through  parks  with 
plumed  princesses,  or  lounged  in  the  arbor  with  the  polished  desperado.  Oh, 
these  confirmed  novel  readers !  They  are  unfitted  for  this  life,  which  is  a 
tremendous  discipline.  They  know  not  how  to  go  through  the  furnaces  of 
trial  through  which  they  must  pass,  and  they  are  unfitted  for  a  world  where 
everything  we  gain  we  achieve  by  hard,  long-continuing  and  exhaustive  work. 
Again,  abstain  from  all  those  books  which,  while  they  have  some  good 
things  about  them,  have  also  an  admixture  of  evil.  The  heart  of  most  people 
is  like  a  sieve,  which  lets  the  small  particles  of  gold  fall  through,  but  keeps 
the  great  cinders.  Once  in  a  while  there  is  a  mind  like  a  loadstone,  which, 
plunged  amid  steel  and  brass  filings,  gathers  up  the  steel  and  repels  the  brass. 
But  it  is  generally  just  the  opposite.  If  you  attempt  to  plunge  through  a 
fence  of  burrs  to  get  one  blackberry,  you  will  get  more  burrs  than  blackberries. 
You  say :    "  The  influence  is  insignificant." 

I  tell  you  that  the  scratch  of  a  pin  has  sometimes  produced  the  lock-jaw. 
Alas,  if  through  curiosity,  as  many  do,  you  pry  into  an  evil  book,  your 
curiosity  is  as  dangerous  as  that  of  the  man  who  would  take  a  torch  into  a 
gunpowder  mill  merely  to  see  whether  it  would  really  blow  up  or  not. 

TORN   BY   A   LEOPARD. 

In  a  menagerie  in  New  York  a  man  put  his  arm  through  the  bars  of  a 
black  leopard's  cage.  The  animal's  hide  looked  so  sleek,  and  bright,  and  beau- 
tiful. He  just  stroked  it  once.  The  monster  seized  him,  and  he  drew  forth  a 
hand  torn,  and  mangled,  and  bleeding.  Oh,  touch  not  evil,  even  with  the  faintest 
stroke !  Though  it  may  be  glossy  and  beautiful,  touch  it  not,  lest  you  pull 
forth  your  soul  torn  and  bleeding  under  the  clutch  of  the  black  leopard. 

"  But,"  you  say,  "  how  can  I  find  out  whether  a  book  is  good  or  bad  with- 
out reading  it  ?  " 


4i4  THE  PATHWAY  OF   LIFE. 

There  is  always  something  suspicious  about  a  bad  book.  I  never  knew  an 
exception — something  suspicious  in  the  index  or  style  of  illustration.  This 
venomous  reptile  almost  always  carries  a  warning  rattle. 

I  charge  you  to  stand  off  from  all  those  books  which  corrupt  the  imagina- 
tion and  inflame  the  passions.  I  do  not  refer  now  to  that  kind  of  a  book 
which  the  villain  has  under  his  coat  waiting  for  the  school  to  get  out,  and 
then,  looking  both  ways  to  see  that  there  is  no  policeman  around  the  block, 
offers  the  book  to  your  son  on  his  way  home.  I  do  not  speak  of  that  kind  of 
literature,  but  that  which  evades  the  law  and  comes  out  in  polished  style,  and 
with  acute  plot  sounds  the  tocsin  that  rouses  up  all  the  baser  passion  of  the 
soul.  To-day,  under  the  nostrils  of  this  land,  there  is  a  fetid,  reeking,  unwashed 
literature,  enough  to  poison  all  the  fountains  of  public  virtue,  and  smite  your 
sons  and  daughters  as  with  the  wing  of  a  destroying  angel,  and  it  is  time  that 
the  ministers  of  the  gospel  blew  the  trumpet  and  rallied  the  forces  of  righteous- 
ness, all  armed  to  the  teeth,  in  this  great  battle  against  a  depraved  literature 

Abstain  from  those  books  which  are  apologetic  of  crime.  It  is  a  sad  thing 
that  some  of  the  best  and  most  beautiful  book-binderies,  and  some  of  the  finest 
rhetoric,  have  been  brought  to  make  sin  attractive.  Vice  is  a  horrible  thing, 
anyhow.  It  is  born  in  shame,  and  dies  howling  in  the  darkness.  In  this 
world  it  is  scourged  with  a  whip  of  scorpions,  but  afterwards  the  thunders  of 
God's  wrath  pursue  it  across  a  boundless  desert,  beating  it  with  ruin  and  woe. 
When  you  come  to  paint  carnality,  do  not  paint  it  as  looking  from  behind 
embroidered  curtains,  or  through  lattice  of  royal  seraglio,  but  as  writhing  in 
the  agonies  of  a  city  hospital. 

A   TERRIBLE   CURSE. 

Cursed  be  the  books  that  try  to  make  impurity  decent,  and  crime  attractive, 
and  hypocrisy  noble !  Cursed  be  the  books  that  swarm  with  libertines  and 
desperadoes,  who  make  the  brain  of  the  young  people  whirl  with  villainy.  Ye 
authors  who  write  them,  ye  publishers  who  print  them,  ye  booksellers  who 
distribute  them,  shall  be  cut  to  pieces,  if  not  by  an  aroused  community,  then 
at  last,  by  the  hand  of  divine  vengeance,  which  shall  sweep  to  the  lowest  pit 
of  perdition  all  you  murderers  of  souls.  I  tell  you,  though  you  may  escape  in 
this  world,  you  will  be  ground  at  last  Under  the  hoof  of  eternal  calamities,  and 
you  will  be  chained  to  the  rock,  and  you  will  have  the  vultures  of  despair 
clawing  at  your  soul,  and  those  whom  you  have  destroyed  will  come  around  to 
torment  you,  and  to  pour  hotter  coals  of  fury  upon  your  head,  and  rejoice 
eternally  in  the  outcry  of  your  pain  and  the  howl  of  your  damnation.  "  God 
shall  wound   the  hairy  scalp  of  him  that  goeth  on  in  his  trespasses." 

The  clock  strikes  midnight.  A  fair  form  bends  over  a  romance.  The  eyes 
flash  fire.  The  breath  is  quick  and  irregular.  Occasionally  the  color  dashes 
to  the  cheek,  and  then  dies  out.  The  hands  tremble  as  though  a  guardian 
spirit  were  trying  to  shake  the  deadly  book  out  of  the  grasp.     Hot   tears  fall. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


4i5 


She  laughs  with  a  shrill  voice    that   drops  dead  at  its  own  sound.     The  sweat 
on  her  brow  is  the  spray  dashed  up  from  the  river  of  death.     The  clock  strikes 


ill-gotten  gains. — From  the  Painting  by  Q.  Matsys. 

"  four,"  and  the  rosy  dawn  soon  after  begins  to  look  through  the  lattice  upon  th« 
pale  form  that  looks  like  a  detained  spectre  of  the  night.  Soon  in  a  mad- 
house  she  will  mistake  her  ringlets  for  curling  serpents,  and  thrust  her  white 


4i6  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

hand  through  the  oars  of  the  prison,  and  smite  her  head,  rubbing  it  back  as 
though  to  push  the  scalp  from  the  skull,  shrieking :  "  My  brain  !  My  brain  ! ,y 
Oh,  stand  off  from  that!  Why  will  you  go  sounding  your  way  amid  the 
reefs  and  warning  buoys,  when  there  is  such  a  vast  ocean  in  which  you  may 
voyage,  all  sail  set? 

Cherish  good  books  and  newspapers.  Beware  of  the  bad  ones.  One  column 
may  save  your  soul ;  one  paragraph  may  ruin  it.  Benjamin  Franklin  said  that 
the  reading  of  Cotton  Mather's  essay  on  "  Doing  Good"  molded  his  entire  life. 
The  assassin  of  Lord  Russell  declared  that  he  was  led  into  crime  by  reading 
one  vivid  romance.  The  consecrated  John  Angell  James,  than  whom  England 
never  produced  a  better  man,  declared  in  his  old  days  that  he  had  never  yet 
got  over  the  evil  effects  of  having  for  fifteen  minutes  once  read  a  bad  book. 
If  there  is  anything  in  your  home  that  cannot  stand  the  test,  do  not  give  it 
away,  for  it  might  spoil  an  immortal  soul ;  do  not  sell  it,  for  the  money  you 
get  would  be  the  price  of  blood  ;  but  rather  kindle  a  fire  on  your  kitchen 
hearth,  or  in  your  back  yard,  and  then  drop  the  poison  into  it,  and  keep  stirring 
the  blaze  until  from  preface  to  appendix  there  shall  not  be  a  single  paragraph 
left,  and  the  bonfire  shall  be  as  consuming  as  that  one  in  the  streets  of  Ephesus. 


pilars  of  £mofce. 

SYMBOLISM   OF   MARTYRDOM,   OF   PEACEFUL  PURSUIT 
AND   A   BURNING   WORLD. 

ONDROUS  is  the  architecture  of  the  smoke, 
whether  God  with  His  finger  curls  it  into  a 
cloud,  or  rounds  it  into  a  dome,  or  points  it  in 
a  spire,  or  spreads  it  in  a  wing,  or,  as  Solomon 
says,  "hoists  it  in  a  pillar."  Watch  it  winding 
up  from  the  country  farm-house  in  the  early 
morning,  showing  that  the  pastoral  industries 
ii\§lvM/)^^^^^'^Of  have  begun  ;    or  see  it  ascending  from  the  chim- 

»  b^ -jP»  neys    of  the  city,  telling  of  the    homes    fed,  the 

MsaaM  t  factories    turning  out    valuable    fabric,  the    print- 

ing-presses preparing  book  and  newspaper,  and  all  the 
ten  thousand  wheels  in  motion.  On  a  clear  day  this 
vapor  spoken  of  mounts  with  such  buoyancy  and  spreads 
such  a  delicate  veil  across  the  sky,  and  traces  such  graceful 
lines  of  circle  and  semicircle,  and  waves,  and  tosses,  and  sinks, 
and  soars,  and  scatters  with  such  affluence  of  shape,  and  color,  and  suggestive- 
ness,  that  if  you  have  never  noticed  it  you  are  like  a  man  who  has  all  his 
life  lived  in  Paris  and  yet  never  saw  the  Luxembourg,  and  all  his  life  in 
Rome  and  never  saw  the  Vatican,  and  all  his  life  at  Lockport  and  never  saw 
Niagara.  Forty-four  times  the  Bible  speaks  of  the  smoke,  this  strange,  weird, 
beautiful,  elastic,  charming,  terrific  and  fascinating  vapor.  Across  the  Bible  sky 
floats  the  smoke  of  Sinai,  the  smoke  of  Sodom,  the  smoke  of  Ai,  the  smoke  of 
the  pit,  the  smoke  of  the  volcanic  hills  when  God  touches  them,  to  symbolize 
the  glorious  Church  of  God  coming  up  out  of  the  wilderness. 

MARTYRDOMS    AND    PERSECUTIONS. 

Pillars  of  smoke  may  be  likened  to  the  suffering  the  Church  of  God  has 
endured.  What  do  I  mean  by  the  Church  ?  I  mean  not  a  building,  not  a 
sect,  but  those  who  in  all  ages  and  all  lands,  and  of  all  beliefs,  love  God  and  are 
trying  to  do  right.  For  centuries  the  heavens  have  been  black  with  the  smoke 
of  martyrdom.  If  set  side  by  side  you  could  girdle  the  earth  with  the  fires  of 
persecution.  Rowland  Taylor  burned  at  Hadleigh  ;  Latimer  burned  at  Oxford; 
27  (417) 


4lS 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


John  Rogers  burned  at    Smithfield ;   John  Hooper  burned  at    Gloucester;   John 
Huss  burned  at  Constance  ;    Lawrence  Saunders,  burned  at  Coventry ;   Joan  of 


VATICAN   UDRARY. 


Arc,  burned    at    Rouen.     Protestants    have    sometimes  pointed    at    Catholics  as 
persecutors,  but  both  Protestant  and  Catholic  have  practised  infamous  cruelties. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  419 

The  Catholics  during  the  reign  of  Hunneric  were  by  Protestants  put  .to  the 
worst  tortures,  stripped  of  their  clothing,  hoisted  in  the  air  by  pulleys  with 
weights  suspended  from  their  feet,  then  let  down,  and  ears  and  eyes,  nose  and 
tongue,  were  amputated,  and  red-hot  plates  of  iron  were  put  against  the  most 
tender  part  of  their  bodies. 

George  Bancroft,  the  historian,  says  of  the  State  of  Maryland :  "  In  the 
land  which  Catholics  had  opened  to  Protestants  mass  might  not  be  said  pub- 
licly ;  no  Catholic  priest  or  bishop  might  utter  his  faith  in  a  voice  of  persua- 
sion ;  no  Catholic  might  teach  the  young.  If  a  wayward  child  of  a  Papist 
would  but  become  an  apostate,  the  law  wrested  for  him  from  his  parents  a  share 
of  their  property.  Such  were  the  methods  adopted  to  prevent  the  growth  of 
Popery." 

Speaking  of  Ireland,  Bancroft,  the  historian,  says  :  "  Such  priests  as  were 
permitted  to  reside  in  Ireland  were  required  to  be  registered,  and  were  kept  like 
prisoners  at  large  within  prescribed  limits.  All  Papists  exercising  ecclesiastical 
jurisdiction,  all  monks,  friars  and  regular  priests,  and  all  priests  not  then 
actually  in  parishes  and  to  be  registered,  were  banished  from  Ireland  under 
pain  of   transportation    and,  on  return,  of  being  hanged,  drawn  and  quartered." 

OTHER    PERSECUTIONS. 

Catholicism  as  well  as  Protestantism  has  had  its  martyrs.  It  does  seem  as 
if  when  any  one  sect  got  complete  dominancy  in  any  land  the  devil  of  persecu- 
tion and  cruelty  took  possession  of  that  sect.  Then  see  the  Catholics  after  the 
Huguenots.  See  the  Gentiles  after  the  Jews  in  Touraine,  where  a  great  pit  was 
dug  and  fire  lighted  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit,  and  160  Jewish  victims  were  con- 
sumed. See  the  Presbyterian  Parliament  of  England,  more  tyrannical  in  their 
treatment  of  opponents  than  had  been  the  criminal  courts.  Persecution  against 
the  Baptists  by  Pedobaptists.  Persecution  of  the  Established  Church  against 
the  Methodist  Church.  Persecution  against  the  Quakers.  Persecution  against 
the  Presbyterians.  Under  Emperor  Diocletian  144,000  Christians  were  massa- 
cred, and  700,000  more  of  them  died  from  banishment  and  exposure.  Witness 
the  sufferings  of  the  Waldenses,  of  the  Albigenses,  of  the  Nestorians.  Wit- 
ness St.  Bartholomew's  massacre.  Witness  the  Duke  of  Alva  driving  out  of 
life  18,000  Christians.  Witness  Herod,  and  Nero,  and  Decius,  and  Hildebrand, 
and  Torquemada,  and  Earl  of  Montfort,  and  Lord  Claverhouse,  who  when  told 
that  he  must  give  account  for  his  cruelties,  said  :  "  I  have  no  need  to  account 
to  man,  and  as  for  God  I  will  take  Him  in  my  own  hands."  A  red  line  runs 
through  the  Church  history  of  1900  years,  a  line  of  blood.  Not  by  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  but  by  the  millions  must  we  count  those  slain  for  Christ's 
sake.  No  wonder  John  Milton  put  the  groans  of  the  martyrs  to  an  immortal 
tune,  writing : 

"Avenge,  O  Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold." 


I 


I 

a 


(420^ 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  421 

Look  at  the  St.  Pauls,  St.  Peters,  St.  Eulalias,  and  the  millions  of  righteous 
and  courageous  souls  that  have  died  by  the  flame,  the  bludgeon,  the  lion 
and  the  cross.  The  smoke  of  martyrs'  homes  and  martyrs'  bodies  if  rolling  up 
all  at  once  would  have  eclipsed  the  noonday  sun  and  turned  the  brightest  day 
the  world  ever  saw  into  a  midnight.  "Who  is  she  that  cometh  up  out  of  the 
wilderness  like  pillars  of  smoke  ?" 

HAS    PERSECUTION    CEASED? 

Has  persecution  ceased?  Ask  that  young  man  who  is  trying  to  be  a 
Christian  in  a  store  or  factory  where  from  morning  to  night  he  is  the  butt  of 
all  the  mean  witticisms  of  unbelieving  employes.  Ask  that  wife  whose  husband 
makes  her  fondness  for  the  house  of  God,  and  even  her  kneeling  prayer  by  the 
bedside,  a  derision,  and  is  no  more  fit  for  her  holy  companionship  than  a  filthy 
crow  would  be  fit  companion  for  a  robin  or  a  golden  oriole.  Compromise  with 
the  world  and  surrender  to  its  conventionalities  and  it  may  let  you  alone,  but 
all  who  will  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus  must  suffer  persecution.  Be  a  theatre- 
going,  card-playing,  wine-drinking,  round-dancing  Christian,  and  you  may 
escape  criticism  and  social  pressure.  But  be  an  up-and-down,  out-and-out 
follower  of  Christ,  and  worldling  will  wink  to  worldling  as  he  speaks  your 
name,  and  you  will  be  put  in  many  a  doggerel  and  snubbed  by  those  not 
worthy  to  blacken  your  oldest  shoes.  When  the  bridge  at  Ashtabula  broke 
and  let  down  the  most  of  the  carload  of  passengers  to  instant  death,  Mr.  P.  P. 
Bliss  was  seated  on  one  side  of  the  aisle  of  the  car  writing  down  a  Christian 
song  which  he  was  composing,  and  on  the  other  side  a  group  of  men  were 
playing  cards.  Whose  landing-place  in  eternity  would  you  prefer — that  of  P. 
P.  Bliss,  the  gospel  singer,  or  of  the  players  ? 

A  great  complaint  comes  from  the  theatres  about  the  ladies'  high  hats 
because  they  obstruct  the  view  of  the  stage,  and  a  lady  rep'  -ter  asked  me  the 
other  day  what  I  thought  about  it,  and  I  told  her  that  if  the  indecent  pictures 
of  actresses  in  the  show-windows  of  Brooklyn  and  New  York  were  accurate 
pictures  of  what  goes  on  in  many  of  the  theatres  night  after  night,  then  it 
would  be  well  if  the  ladies'  hats  were  a  mile  high  so  as  to  completely  obstruct 
the  vision.  If  professed  Christians  go  to  such  places  during  the  week,  no  one 
will  ever  persecute  them  for  their  religion,  for  they  have  none  and  they  are 
the  joke  of  hell.  But  let  them  live  a  consecrated  and  Christian  life  and  they 
will  soon  run  against  sneering  opposition.  For  a  compromise  Christian  char- 
acter an  easy  time  now,  but  for  consecrated  behavior,  grimace  and  caricature. 
For  the  body,  thanks  to  the  God  of  free  America,  there  are  now  no  swords  or 
fiery  stakes,  but  for  the  souls  of  thousands  of  the  good,  in  a  figurative  sense, 
rack  and  gibbet  and  Torquemada.  The  symbol  of  the  domestic,  and  social, 
and  private,  and  public  suffering  of  a  great  multitude  of  God's  dear  children 
pillars  of  smoke. 


martyrdom  of  ST.  eulawa. — Front  the  Painting  by  J.    IV.    Waterhouse. 

Eulalia  was  a  young  Christian,  whose  zeal  caused  her  death  during  the  persecutions  of  the  Christian*   in  Rome.     Her  body  wai 
exposed  in   the   Roman  Forum,  where  it  was  soon  covered,  however,  by  a  miraculous  faU   of  sno» 

(422) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  423 

A   TERRIBLE  VENGEANCE. 

What  an  exciting  scene  in  India  when,  during  the  Sepoy  rebellion  a 
regiment  of  Highlanders  came  up  and  found  the  dead  body  of  one  of  General 
Wheeler's  daughters,  who  had  been  insulted,  and  mauled,  and  slain  by  the 
Sepoys.  So  great  was  the  wrath  against  these  murderers  that  the  Scotch 
regiment  sat  down,  and  cutting  off  the  hair  of  this  dead  daughter  of  General 
Wheeler,  they  divided  it  among  them,  and  each  one  counted  the  number  of 
the  hairs  given  him,  and  each  took  an  oath,  which  was  executed,  that  for  each 
hair  of  the  murdered  daughter  they  would  dash  out  the  life  of  a  miserable 
Sepoy.  But  as  we  look  over  the  story  of  those  who,  in  all  ages,  have  suffered 
for  the  truth,  while  we  leave  vengeance  to  the  Lord,  let  us  band  together  in 
one  solemn  vow,  one  tremendous  oath,  after  having  counted  the  host  of  the 
martyrs,  that  for  each  one  of  those  glorious  men  and  women  who  died  for  the 
truth,  an  immortal  soul  shall  live — live  with  God — and  live  forever. 

But  as  I  already  hinted  in  the  first  sentence,  nothing  can  be  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  figures  of  smoke  on  a  clear  sky.  You  can  see  what  you  will 
in  the  contour  of  this  volatile  vapor,  now  enchanted  castles,  now  troops  of 
horsemen,  now  bannered  procession,  now  winged  couriers,  now  a  black  angel 
of  wrath  under  a  spear  of  the  sunshine  turned  to  an  angel  of  light,  and  now 
from  horizon  to  horizon  the  air  is  a  picture  gallery  filled  with  masterpieces  of 
which  God  is  the  artist,  morning  clouds  of  smoke  born  in  the  sunrise,  and 
evening  clouds  of  smoke  laid  in  the  burnished  sepulchres  of  the  sunset. 

A    BEAUTIFUL   SYMBOL. 

The  beauty  of  the  transfigured  smoke  is  a  divine  symbol  of  the  beauty  of 
the  Church.  The  fairest  of  all  the  fair  is  she.  Do  not  call  those  persecutors 
of  whom  I  spoke,  the  Church.  They  are  the  parasites  of  the  Church,  not  the 
Church  itself.  Her  mission  is  to  cover  the  earth  with  a  supernatural  gladness, 
to  open  all  the  prison-doors,  to  balsam  all  the  wounds,  to  moss  all  the  graves, 
to  burn  up  the  night  in  the  fireplace  of  a  great  morning,  to  change  iron 
handcuffs  into  diamond  wristlets,  to  turn  the  whole  race  around,  and  whereas 
it  faced  death,  commanding  it,  "Right  about  face  for  heaven!"  According  to 
the  number  of  the  spires  of  the  churches  in  all  our  cities,  towns  and  neigh- 
borhoods, are  the  good  homes,  the  worldly  prosperities,  and  the  pure  morals, 
and  the  happy  souls. 

Meet  me  at  any  depot  the  world  over,  and  with  my  eyes  closed,  take  me 
by  the  hand  and  lead  me  so  that  my  feet  will  not  stumble,  and  without  my  once 
looking  down,  or  looking  on  the  level,  take  me  to  some  high  roof  or  tower,  and 
let  me  see  the  tops  of  the  churches,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  proportion  of  sui- 
cides, of  arsons,  of  murders,  of  thefts.  According  as  the  churches  are  numerous 
are  the  crimes  few.  According  as  the  churches  are  few  the  crimes  are  numerous. 
The  most  beautiful  organization  the  world  ever  saw  or  ever  will  see  is  the  much- 
maligned  Church,  the  friend  of  all  good,  the  foe  of  all  evil,  "fair  as  the  moon 


424 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


/ 


and  clear  as  the  sun."  Beautiful  in  her  author,  beautiful  in  her  mission,  the 
heroine  of  the  centuries,  the  bride  of  Christ,  the  queen  of  the  nations.  There 
are  hundreds  of  kindly  institutions,  some  caring  for  inebriates,  some  for  the 
crippled,  some  for  the  imbecile,  some  for  the  misled,  some  for  the  blind,  but  the 
Church  is  the  mother  of  all  these  kindly  institutions.  There  are  asylums, 
American,  or  English,  or  Scotch,  or  Irish,  or  French,  or  German,  or  Italian, 
but  the  Church  spreads  her  mantle  over  all  these,  and  will  yet  spread  it  over  all 
nations.  Her  gates  are  beautiful,  her  songs  are  beautiful,  her  prayers  are  beau- 
tiful,   her   convocations    are    beautiful,  her    work  is  beautiful.      All    kings    and 


the  christian  martyr. — Front  the  Painting  by  Paul  Delaroche. 

warriors  will  yet  bow  down  at  her  altars,  all  chains  of  serfdom  be  shattered 
against  her  doorstep,  all  nations  will  yet  follow  her  leading.  How  amiable  are 
thy  tabernacles !  How  sacred  thy  altars !  How  glorious  thy  auditoriums  !  So 
graceful,  so  aspiring,  so  grand,  and  rolling  on,  and  rolling  up,  we  cry  out  in 
regard  to  her:  "Who  is  she  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of 
smoke  ?" 

THE   SMOKE   OF    PEACE. 
"  Perfumed  smoke,"  says  Solomon,  not  like  the  fumes  coughed  up  from  the 
throat  of  a  steam  pipe,  or  poisoned  with  the  gases  of  chemical  factories,  or  float- 


at  the  golden  gate. — From  the  Painting  by  Val.  Prinsep. 


(425) 


426  THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

ing  in  black  wrath  from  the  conflagration  of  homesteads,  or  sulphurous  from 
blazing  batteries,  but  sweet  as  a  burning  grove  of  cinnamon  or  jungle  of  sassa- 
fras, or  the  odors  of  a  temple  censer. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of  smoke,  per- 
fumed with  myrrh  and  frankincense  ? 

Hear  it,  men  and  women  everywhere,  that'  the  advance  of  the  genuine 
Church  of  Christ  means  peace  for  all  nations.  Victor  Hugo,  in  his  book  entitled 
"  Ninety-three,"  says  :  "  Nothing  calmer  than  smoke  but  nothing  more  start- 
ling. There  are  peaceful  smokes  and  there  are  evil  ones.  The  thickness  and 
color  of  a  line  of  smoke  make  the  whole  difference  between  war  and  peace,  between 
fraternity  and  hatred.  The  whole  happiness  of  man  or  his  complete  misery  is 
sometimes  expressed  in  this  thin  vapor  which  the  wind  scatters  at  will." 

The  great  Frenchman  was  right,  but  I  go  further  and  say  that  as  the 
kingdom  of  God  advances  like  pillars  of  smoke,  the  black  volumes  belching 
from  batteries  of  war  and  pouring  out  from  port-holes  of  ships  will  vanish  from 
the  sky. 

A  distinguished  gentleman  of  the  late  war  told  me  recently  that  Abraham 
Lincoln  proposed  to  avoid  our  civil  conflict  by  purchase  of  all  the  slaves  of  the 
South  and  setting  them  free.  He  calculated  what  would  be  a  reasonable  price 
for  them,  and  when  the  number  of  millions  of  dollars  that  would  be  required 
for  such  a  purpose  was  announced  the  proposition  was  scouted,  and  the  North 
would  not  have  made  the  offer,  and  the  South  would  not  have  accepted  it,  if 
made. 

"  But,"  said  my  military  friend,  "  the  war  went  on,  and  just  the  number 
of  millions  of  dollars  that  Mr.  Lincoln  calculated  would  have  been  enough  to 
make  a  reasonable  purchase  of  all  the  slaves  were  spent  in  war,  besides  all  the 
precious  lives  that  were  hurled  away  in  the  250  battles." 

In  other  words,  there  ought  to  be  some  other  way  for  men  to  settle  their 
controversies  without  wholesale  butchery. 

THE    HORRORS    OF   WAR. 

The  Church  of  God  will  yet  become  the  arbiter  of  nations.  If  the  world 
would  allow  it,  it  would  to-day  step  in  between  Germany  and  France  and  settle 
the  trouble  about  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  and  between  Russia  and  Bulgaria,  and 
between  England  and  her  antagonists,  and  between  all  the  other  nations  that 
are  flying  at  each  others'  throats,  and  command  peace  and  disband  armies,  and 
harness  for  the  plow  the  war  horses  now  being  hitched  to  ammunition  wagons, 
or  saddled  for  cavalry  charge.  That  time  must  come,  or,  through  the  increased 
facility  for  shooting  men  and  blowing  up  cities  and  overwhelming  hosts  to  instant 
death,  so  that  we  can  kill  a  regiment  easier  than  we  could  once  kill  a  company, 
and  kill  a  brigade  easier  than  we  could  once  kill  a  regiment,  the  patent  offices 
of  the  world  more  busy  than  ever  in  recognizing  new  enginery  of  destruction, 
the  human  race  will,  after   a  while,  go    fighting  with    one    arm,  and    hobbling 


BAD  NEWS   FROM   THE  SEA. 


(427) 


428 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


with  one  foot,  and  stumbling  along  with  one  eye,  and  some  ingenious  inventor, 
inspired  of  the  archangel  of  all  mischief,  will  contrive  a  machine  that  will  bore 
a  hole  to  the  earth's  centre,  and  some  desperate  nation  will  throw  into  that 
hole  enough  dynamite  to  blow  this  hulk  of  a  planet  into  fragments,  dropping 
like  meteoric  stones  on  surrounding  stellar  habitations. 

But  this  shall  not  be,  for  whatever  else  I  let  go,   I  hang  on  to  my  Bible. 


CRUCIFIXION   OF   ST.    PETER. 

St.  Peter  accompanied  Paul  on  his  last  trip  to  Rome  and  there  preached  the  gospel  until  the  uprising  against  the  Christians,  at  the  instigation 
of  Nero,  when  he  was  crucified,  head  downwards,  while  the  Roman  populace  glutted  their  bloody  vengeance  for  the  burning  of  the  city  by  destroying 
thousands  of  other  innocent  Christians. 

which  tells  me  that  the  blacksmith's  shop  shall  yet  come  to  its  grandest  use 
when  the  warrior  and  the  husbandman  shall  enter  it  side  by  side,  and  the  soldier 
shall  throw  into  its  bank  of  fires  his  sword,  and  the  farmer  shall  pick  it  up  a 
plowshare,  and  the  straightest  spear  shall  be  bent  into  a  crook  at  each  end,  and 
then  cut  in  two,  and  what  was  one  spear  shall  be  two  pruning  forks.  Down  with 
Moloch  and  up  with  Christ !  Let  no  more  war-horses  eat  out  of  the  manger 
where  Jesus  was  born. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  429 

Peace !  Forever  roll  off  the  sky  the  black  pillars  of  smoke  from  the 
Marengos,  and  Salamancas,  and  Borodinos,  and  Sedans,  and  Gettysburgs  of 
earth !  And  right  after  them  roll  into  the  heavens  the  peaceful  vapors  from  the 
chimneys  of  farm  houses,  and  asylums,  and  churches,  and  capitals  of  Christian 
nations,  and,  as  the  sunlight  strikes  through  these  vapors  they  will  write  in 
letters  of  jet  and  gold  all  over  the  sky  from  horizon  to  zenith.  "  Glory  to  God 
in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  to  men  !" 

Then  let  all  the  men-of-war  fire  a  broadside,  and  all  the  forts  thunder  forth 
a  resounding  volley,  and  the  earth  be  girdled  with  the  cannonade  over  the  final 
victory  of  the  truth. 

BURNING    OF   THE   WORLD. 

Oh,  come  into  the  Church  through  Christ,  the  door — a  door  more  glorious 
than  that  of  the  Temple  of  Hercules,  which  had  two  pillars,  and  one  was  gold 
and  the  other  emerald  !  Come  in  to-day.  Come  in  and  be  one  of  the  eternal 
victors  !  The  world  you  leave  behind  is  a  poor  world,  and  it  will  burn  and  pass 
off  like  pillars  of  smoke.  Whether  the  final  conflagration  will  start  in  the  coal 
mines  of  Pennsylvania,  which,  in  some  places,  have  for  many  years  been  burn- 
ing and  eating  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains ;  or  whether  it  shall  begin  near 
the  California  geysers  ;  or  whether  from  out  the  furnaces  of  Cotopaxi,  and 
Vesuvius,  and  Stromboli,  it  shall  burst  forth  upon  the  astonished  nations.  I 
make  no  prophecy,  but  all  geologists  tell  us  that  we  stand  on  the  lid  of  a 
world  the  heart  of  which  is  a  raging,  roaring,  awful  flame,  and  some  day  God 
will  let  the  red  monsters  out  of  their  imprisonment  of  centuries,  and  New  York 
on  fire  in  1835,  an^  Charleston  on  fire  in  1865,  and  Chicago  on  fire  in  1871, 
and  Boston  on  fire  in  1873,  were  only  like  one  spark  from  a  blacksmith's  forge 
as  compared  with  that  last  universal  blaze  which  will  be  seen  in  other  worlds. 
But  gradually  the  flames  will  lessen,  and  the  world  will  become  a  great  living 
coal,  and  that  will  take  on  ashen  hue,  and  then  our  ruined  planet  will  begin 
to  smoke,  and  the  mountains  will  smoke,  and  the  valleys  will  smoke,  and  the 
islands  will  smoke,  and  the  seas  will  smoke,  and  the  cities  will  smoke,  and  the 
five  continents  will  be  five  pillars  of  smoke.  But  the  black  vapors  will  begin  to 
lessen  in  height  and  density,  and  then  will  become  hardly  visible  to  those  who 
look  upon  it  from  the  sky  galleries,  and  after  a  while  from  just  one  point  there 
will  curl  up  a  thin  solitary  vapor,  and  then  even  that  will  vanish,  and  there 
will  be  nothing  left  except  the  charred  ruins  of  a  burned-out  world,  the  corpse 
of  a  dead  star,  the  ashes  of  an  extinguished  planet,  a  fallen  pillar  of  smoke. 

But  that  will  not  interfere  with  your  investments  if  you  have  taken  Christ 
as  your  Saviour.  Secure  heaven  as  your  eternal  home,  you  can  look  down  upon 
a  dismantled,  disrupted  and  demolished  earth  without  any  perturbation. 

When  wrapped  in  fire  the  realms  of  ether  glow, 
And  heaven's  last  thunder  shakes  the  earth  below, 
Thou,   undismayed,  shalt  o'er  the  ruins  smile, 
And  light  thy  torch  at  nature's  funeral  pile. 


heroes  of  tfje  g>ca. 


A  TRIBUTE  TO   OUR  WAR   FLEETS  AND   THE   BRAVH   SAII, 
ORS   WHO    'BANNED   THEM. 

pONG  ago,  even  eighteen  centuries  ago,  the  Apostle  James 
said,  "Behold  the  ships."  If  any  exclamation  was 
in  any  measure  appropriate  then  concerning  the 
crude  fishing-smacks  that  sailed  Lake  Galilee,  how 
much  more  appropriate  in  an  age  which  has  launched 
from  the  dry  docks,  for  purposes  of  peace,  the  Ari- 
zona, of  the  Guion  Line ;  the  City  of  New  York,  of 
^^>  the  Inman  Line ;  the  Egypt,  of  the  National  Line ; 
the  Germanic,  of  the  White  Star  Line ;  the  Circassia, 
of  the  Anchor  Line ;  the  Etruria,  of  the  Cunard  Line, 
and  the  Gre%t  Eastern,  with  hull  680  feet  long — not 
a  failure,  for  it  helped  lay  the  Atlantic  cable,  and  that  was 
enough  glory  for  one  ship's  existence — and  in  an  age 
which  for  purposes  of  war  has  launched  the  screw-sloops 
like  the  Idaho,  the  Shenandoah,  the  Ossipee,  and  our  iron- 
clads like  the  Kalamazoo,  the  Roanoke,  and  the  Dunder- 
berg,  and  those  which  have  already  been  buried  in  the  deep, 
like  the  Monitor,  the  Housatonic,  the  Weehawken,  and  the 
Tecumseh,  the  tempests  ever  since  sounding  a  volley  over  their  water  sepul- 
chres, and  the  scarred  veterans  of  war  shipping,  like  the  Constitution,  or  the 
Alliance,  or  the  Constellation,  that  have  swung  into  the  naval  yards  to  spend 
their  last  days,  their  decks  now  all  silent  of  the  feet  that  trod  them,  their 
rigging  all  silent  of  the  hands  that  clung  to  them,  their  port-holes  silent  of 
the  brazen  throats  that  once  thundered  out  of  them.  If  in  the  first  century, 
when  war  vessels  were  dependent  on  the  oars  that  paddled  at  the  side  of 
them  for  propulsion,  his  words  were  suggestive,  with  how  much  more  emphasis, 
and  meaning,  and  overwhelming  reminiscence  we  can  cry  out,  as  we  see  the 
Kearsarge  lie  across  the  bows  of  the  Alabama  and  sink  it,  teaching  foreign 
nations  they  had  better  keep  their  hand  off  our  American  fight ;  or  as  we  see 
the  ram  Albemarle,  of  the  Confederates,  running  out  and  in  the  Roanoke,  and 
up  and  down  the  coast,  throwing  everything  into  confusion  as  no  other  craft 
ever  did,  pursued  by  the  Miami,  the  Ceres,  the  Southfield,  the  Sassacus,  the 
Mattabesett,  the  Whitehead,  the  Commodore  Hull,  the  Louisiana,  the  Minne- 
sota and  other  armed  vessels,  all  trying  in  vain  to  catch  her,  until  Captain 
Cushing,  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  his  men  blew  her  up,  himself  and  only 

(430) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


43* 


one  other  escaping ;  and,  as  I  see  the  flagship  Hartford,  and  the  Richmond, 
and  the  Monongahela,  with  other  gunboats,  sweep  past  the  batteries  of  Port 
Hudson,  and  the  Mississippi  flows  forever  free  to  all  Northern  and  Southern 
craft,  I  cry  out  with  a  patriotic  emotion  that  I  cannot  suppress  if  I  would, 
and  would  not  if  I  could  :    "  Behold  also  the  ships ! " 


THE   NEGLECTED   SAILOR. 


At  the  annual  decoration  of  graves,  North  and  South,  among  Federals  and 
Confederates,  full  justice  has  been  done  to  the  memory  of  those  who  fought 
on  the  land  in  our  great  contest,  but  not  enough  has  been  said  of  those  who 
on    ship's   deck    dared    and   suffered  all    things.     So,  ye  admirals,  commodores, 


SHIP    AHOY 


commanders,  captains,  pilots,  gunners,  boatswains,  sail-makers,  surgeons,  stokers, 
messmates  and  seamen  of  all  names,  to  use  your  own  parlance,  we  might  as 
well  get  under  way  and  stand  out  toward  sea  Let  all  land-lubbers  go  ashore. 
Full  speed  now !     Four  bells. 

Never  since  the  sea  fight  of  Lepanto,  where  300  royal  galleys,  manned  by 
50,000  warriors,  at  sunrise,  September  6,  1571,  met  250  royal  galleys,  manned 
by  120,000  men,  and  in  the  four  hours  of  battle  8000  fell  on  one  side  and 
25,000  on  the  other ;  yea,  never  since  the  day  when  at  Actium,  thirty-one 
years  before  Christ,  Augustus,  with  269  ships,  scattered  the  260  ships  of  Mark 
Antony  and  gained  universal  dominion  as  the  prize  ;    yea,  since  the  day  when 


432 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


at  Salamis  the  1200  galleys  of  the  Persians,  manned  by  500,000  men,  were 
crushed  by  Greeks  with  less  than  a  third  of  that  force ;  yea,  never  since  the 
time  of  Noah,  the  first  ship  captain,  has  the  world  seen  such  a  miraculous 
creation  as  that  of  the  American  navy  in  1861.  There  were  about  200  available 
seamen  in  all   the  naval  stations   and  receiving   ships,  and   here   and   there  an 


BATTLE  OF  I.EPANTO. 


old  vessel.  Yet  orders  were  given  to  blockade  2500  miles  of  sea-coast,  greater 
than  the  whole  coast  of  Europe,  and,  beside  that,  the  Ohio,  Tennessee,  Cum- 
berland, Mississippi  and  other  great  rivers,  covering  an  extent  of  2000  more 
miles,  were  to  be  patrolled.  No  wonder  the  whole  civilized  world  burst  into  a 
guffaw  of  laughter  at  the  seeming  impossibility.     But  the  work  was  done,  done: 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  433 

almost  immediately,  done  thoroughly,  and  done  with  a  speed  and  consummate 
skill  that  eclipsed  all  the  history  of  naval  architecture.  What  brilliant  achieve- 
ments are  suggested  by  the  mere  mention  of  the  names  of  the  rear-admirals. 
If  all  they  did  should  be  written,  every  one,  I  suppose  that  even  the  world 
itself  could  not  contain  the  books  that  should  be  written.  But  these  names 
have  received  the  honors  due.  The  most  of  them  went  to  their  graves  under 
the  cannonade  of  all  the  forts,  navy  yards  and  men-of-war,  the  flags  of  all  the 
shipping  and  capitols  at  half-mast. 

DEEDS   OF   NAVAL   HEROES. 

But  I  recite  now  the  deeds  of  our  naval  heroes  who  have  not  yet  received 
appropriate  recognition.     "  Behold  also  the  ships." 

As  we  will  never  know  what  our  national  prosperity  is  worth  until  we 
realize  what  it  cost,  I  recall  the  unrecited  fact  that  the  men  of  the  navy  ran 
especial  risks.  They  had  not  only  the  human  weaponry  to  contend  with,  but 
the  tides,  the  fog,  the  storm.  Not  like  other  ships  could  they  run  into  harbor 
at  the  approach  of  an  equinox,  or  a  cyclone,  or  a  hurricane,  because  the 
harbors  were  hostile.  A  miscalculation  of  a  tide  might  leave  them  on  a  bar, 
and  a  fog  might  overthrow  all  the  plans  of  wisest  commodore  and  admiral, 
and  accident  might  leave  them,  not  on  the  land  roady  for  an  ambulance,  but 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  as  when  the  torpedo  blew  up  the  Tecumseh,  in 
Mobile  Bay,  and  nearly  all  on  board  perished.  They  were  at  the  mercy  of 
the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans,  which  have  no  mercy.  Such  tempests  as 
wrecked  the  Spanish  Armada  might  any  day  swoop  upon  the  squadron.  No 
hiding  behind  the  earthworks.  No  digging  in  of  cavalry  spurs  at  the  sound 
of  retreat.  Mightier  than  all  the  fortresses  on  all  the  coasts,  is  the  ocean 
when  it  bombards  a  flotilla.  In  the  cemeteries  for  Federal  and  Confederate 
dead  are  the  bodies  of  most  of  those  who  fell  on  the  land.  But  where  those 
are  who  went  down  in  the  war  vessels  will  not  be  known  until  the  sea  gives 
up  its  dead.  The  Jack  tars  knew  that  while  loving  arms  might  carry  the  men 
who  fell  on  the  land,  and  bury  them  with  solemn  liturgy  and  the  honors  of 
war,  for  the  bodies  of  those  who  dropped  from  the  ratlines  into  the  sea,  or 
went  down  with  all  on  board  under  the  stroke  of  a  gunboat,  there  remained 
the  shark,  and  the  whale,  and  the  endless  tossing  of  the  sea  which  cannot  rest. 
How  will  you  find  their  graves  for  a  national  decoration  ?  Nothing  but  the 
archangel's  trumpet  shall  reach  their  lowly  bed.  A  few  of  them  have  been 
gathered  into  naval  cemeteries  of  the  laud,  and  you  will  garland  the  sod  that 
covers  them,  but  who  will  put  flowers  on  the  fallen  crew  of  the  exploded 
Westfield  and  Shawsheen,  and  the  sunken  Southfield,  and  the  Winfield  Scott. 
Bullets  threatening  in  front,  bombs  threatening  from  above,  torpedoes  threaten- 
ing from  beneath,  and  the  ocean,  with  its  'reputation  of  6000  years  for  ship- 
wreck lying  all  around — am  I  not  right  in  saying  it  required  a  special  courage 
for  the  navy  ? 
28 


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(434) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  435 

FROM   PICTURESQUE   DISPLAY   TO   DEATH. 

It  looks  picturesque  and  beautiful  to  see  a  war  vessel  going  out  through 
the  Narrows,  sailors  in  new  rig  singing : 

A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 
A  home  on  the  rolling  deep  ! 

the  colors  gracefully  dipping  to  passing  ships,  the  decks  immaculately  clean, 
and  the  guns  at  Quarantine  firing  a  parting  salute.  But  the  poetry  is  all 
gone  out  of  that  ship  as  it  comes  out  of  an  engagement,  like  that  off  Trafalgar, 
where  Nelson  gained  imperishable  honors,  its  decks  red  with  human  blood, 
wheel-house  gone,  the  cabin  a  pile  of  shattered  mirrors  and  destroyed  furni- 
ture, steering-wheel  broken,  smoke-stack  crushed,  a  100-pound  Whitworth  rifle 
shot  having  left  its  mark  from  port  to  starboard,  the  shrouds  rent  away,  lad- 
ders splintered  and  decks  plowed  up,  and  smoke-blackened  and  scalded  corpses 
lying  among  those  who  are  gasping  their  last  gasp,  far  away  from  home  and 
kindred,  whom  they  love  as  much  as  we  love  wife,  and  parents,  and  children. 
Not  waiting  until  you  are  dead  to  put  upon  your  graves  a  wreath  of  recogni- 
tion, this  hour  we  put  on  your  living  brow  the  garland  of  a  nation's  praise. 

O  men  of  the  Western  Gulf  squadron,  of  the  Eastern  Gulf  squadron,  of 
the  South  Atlantic  squadron,  of  the  North  Atlantic  squadron,  of  the  Mississippi 
squadron,  of  the  Pacific  squadron,  of  the  West  India  squadron  and  of  the 
Potomac  flotilla,  hear  our  thanks !  Take  the  benediction  of  our  churches. 
Accept  the  hospitalities  of  the  nation.  If  we  had  our  way  we  would  get  you 
not  only  a  pension,  but  a  home  and  a  princely  wardrobe,  and  an  equipage,  and 
a  banquet  while  you  live,  and  after  your  departure  a  catafalque,  and  a  mauso- 
leum of  sculptured  marble,  with  a  model  of  the  ship  in  which  you  won  the  day. 
It  is  considered  a  gallant  thing  when  in  a  naval  fight  the  flag-ship,  with  its 
blue  ensign,  goes  ahead  up  a  river  or  into  a  bay,  its  Admiral  standing  in  the 
shrouds  watching  and  giving  orders.  But  I  have  to  tell  you,  O  veterans  of  the 
American  navy,  if  you  are  as  loyal  to  Christ  as  you  were  to  the  government 
there  is  a  flag-ship  sailing  ahead  of  you  of  which  Christ  is  the  Admiral,  and  He 
watches  from  the  shrouds,  and  the  heavens  are  the  blue  ensign,  and  He  leads 
you  toward  the  harbor,  and  all  the  broadsides  of  earth  and  hell  cannot  damage 
you,  and  ye,  whose  garments  were  once  red  with  your  own  blood,  shall  have  a 
robe  washed  and  made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  Then  strike  eight 
bells  !     High  noon  in  heaven  ! 

With  such  anticipation,  O  veterans  of  the  American  navy,  I  charge  you 
bear  up  under  the  aches  and  weaknesses  that  you  still  carry  from  the  war  times ! 
You  are  not  as  stalwart  as  you  would  have  been  but  for  that  nervous  strain  and 
for  that  terrific  exposure.  Let  every  ache  and  pain,  instead  of  depressing, 
remind  you  of  your  fidelity.  The  sinking  of  the  Weehawken  off  Morris  Island, 
December  6,  1863,  was  a  mystery.  She  was  not  under  fire.  The  sea  was  not 
rough.     But  Admiral  Dahlgren,  from  the  deck  of  the  flag  steamer  Philadelphia, 


436 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


saw  her  gradually  sinking,  and  finally  she  struck  the  ground,  but  the  flag  still 
floated  above  the  waves  in  the  sight  of  the  shipping.  It  was  afterward  found 
that  she  sank  from  weakness  through  injuries  in  previous  service.  Her  plates 
had  been  knocked  loose  in  previous  times.  So  you  have  in  nerve,  and  muscle, 
and  bone,  and  dimmed  eyesight,  and  difficult  hearing,  and  shortness  of  breath, 
many  intimations  that  you  are  gradually  going  down.  It  is  the  service  of 
twenty-three  years  ago  that  is  telling  on  you.     Be  of  good  cheer.     We  owe  you 

just  as  much  as  though 
your  life-blood  had  gur- 
gled through  the  scuppers 
of  the  ship  in  the  Red 
River  expedition,  or  as 
though  you  had  gone 
down  with  the  Melville 
off  Hatteras.  Only  keep 
your  flag  flying  as  did  the 
illustrious  Weehawken. 
Good  cheer,  my  boys  ! 
The  memory  of  man  is 
poor,  and  all  that  talk 
about  the  country  never 
forgetting  those  who 
fought  for  it  is  an  un- 
truth. It  does  forget. 
Witness  how  the  veterans 
sometimes  had  to  turn 
the  hand-organs  on  the 
street  to  get  their  fami- 
lies a  living.  Witness 
how  ruthlessly  some  of 
them  have  been  turned 
out  of  office  that  some 
bloat  of  a  politician  might 
take  their  place.  Wit- 
ness the  fact  that  there 
is  not  a  man  or  woman 
now  under  thirty  years 
of  age  who  has  any  full  appreciation  of  the  four  years'  martyrdom  of  1861  to 
1865  inclusive.  But  while  men  may  forget,  God  never  forgets.  He  remembers 
the  swinging  hammock.  He  remembers  the  forecastle.  He  remembers  the 
frozen  ropes  of  that  January  tempest.  He  remembers  the  amputation  without 
sufficient  ether.  He  remembers  the  horrors  of  that  deafening  night  when 
forts    from  both  sides  belched  on    you  their  fury  and    the  heavens  glowed  with 


CRUISERS   AFTER  THE   BATTLE. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  437 

the  ascending  and  descending  missiles  of  death,  and  your  ship  quaked  under 
the  recoil  of  the  ioo-pounder,  while  all  the  gunners,  according  to  command, 
stood  on  tiptoe  with  mouth  wide  open  lest  the  concussion  shatter  hearing  or 
brain.  He  remembers  it  all  better  than  you  remember  it,  and  in  some  shape 
reward  will  be  given.  God  is  the  best  of  all  paymasters,  and  for  those  who 
do  their  whole  duty  to  Him  and  the  world  the  pension  awarded  is  an  everlast- 
ing heaven. 

Sometimes  off  the  coast  of  England  the  royal  family  have  inspected  the 
British  navy  manoeuvred  before  them  for  that  purpose.  In  the  Baltic  Sea  the 
Czar  and  Czarina  have  reviewed  fhe  Russian  navy.  To  bring  before  the 
American  people  the  debt  they  owe  to  the  navy,  I  go  out  with  you  on  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  where  there  is  plenty  of  room,  and  in  imagination  review  the 
war-shipping  of  our  three  great  conflicts-1776,  1812  and  1865.  Swing  into  line 
all  ye  frigates,  ironclads,  fire-rafts,  gunboats  and  men-of-war.  There  they  come, 
all  sail  set  and  all  furnaces  in  full  blast,  sheaves  of  crystal  tossing  from  their 
•cutting  prows.  That  is  the  Delaware,  an  old  Revolutionary  craft,  commanded 
by  Commodore  Decatur.  Yonder  goes  the  Constitution,  Commodore  Hull  com- 
manding. There  is  the  Chesapeake,  commanded  by  Captain  Lawrence,  whose 
■dying  words  were:  "Don't  give  up  the  ship,"  and  the  Niagara,  of  1812,  com- 
manded by  Commodore  Perry,  who  wrote  on  the  back  of  an  old  letter,  resting 
•on  his  navy  cap :  "  We  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they  are  ours."  Yonder  is 
the  flagship  Wabash,  Admiral  Dupont  commanding ;  yonder  the  flagship 
Minnesota,  Admiral  Goldsborough  commanding;  yonder  the  flagship  Phila- 
delphia, Admiral  Dahlgren  commanding ;  yonder  the  flagship  San  Jacinto, 
Admiral  Bailey  commanding ;  yonder  the  flagship  Black  Hawk,  Admiral  Porter 
•commanding ;  yonder  the  flag  steamer  Benton,  Admiral  Foote  commanding ; 
yonder  the  flagship  Hartford,  David  Glascoe  Farragut  commanding.  And  now 
.all  the  squadrons  of  all  departments,  from  smallest  tugboat  to  mightiest  man-of- 
war,  are  in  procession,  decks  and  rigging  filled  with  the  men  who  fought  on 
the  sea  for  the  old  flag  ever  since  we  were  a  nation.  Grandest  fleet  the  world 
•ever  saw.  Sail  on  before  all  ages !  Run  up  all  the  colors !  Ring  all  the 
bells !     Yea,  open    all    the    port    holes !     Unlimber  the    guns  and   load   and  fire 

•  one  great  broadside  that  shall  shake  the  continents  in  honor  of  peace  and  the 
•eternity  of  the  American  Union !  But  I  lift  my  hand  and  the  scene  has 
vanished.     Many  of  the  ships  have  dropped  under  the  crystal  pavement  of  the 

•  deep  sea,  monsters  swimming  in  and  out  the  forsaken  cabin,  and  other  old 
■craft  have  swung  into  the  navy  yards,  and  many  of  the  brave  spirits  who  trod 
their   decks    are    gone    up    to    the    eternal    fortress,  from  whose    casements    and 

•  embrasures  may  we  not  hope  they  look  down  to-day  with  joy  upon  a  nation  in 

•  re-united  brotherhood  ? 

DEATH   OF   FARRAGUT. 

At  the  annual  commemoration    I  bethought  that  most  of  you  who  were  in 
ithe  naval  service  during  our  late  war  are  now  in  the  afternoon  or  evening  of  life, 


43§ 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


With  some  of  you  it  is  two  o'clock,  three  o'clock,  four  o'clock,  six  o'clock,  and 
it  will  soon  be  sundown.  If  you  were  of  age  when  the  war  broke  out  you  are 
now  at  least  forty-eight.  Many  of  you  have  passed  into  the  sixties  and  seventies ; 
therefore  it  is  appropriate  that  I  hold  two  great  lights  for  your  illumination — 
the  example  of  Christian  admirals  consecrated  to  Christ  and  their  country, 
Admiral  Foote  and  Admiral  Farragut.  Had  the  Christian  religion  been  a  cow- 
ardly thing  they  would  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  In  its  faith  they  lived 
and  died.  In  our  Brooklyn  Navy  Yard,  Admiral  Foote  held  prayer  meetings 
and  conducted  'a  revival  on  the  receiving-ship  North  Carolina,  and  on  Sabbath, 
far  oat  at  sea,  followed  the    chaplain    with  religious  exhortation.      In  early  life 


crossing  THE  bar.  -  From  the  Painting  by  Hamilton  Macallum. 

on  board  the  sloop  of  war  Natchez,  impressed  by  the  words  of  a  Christian  sailor, 
he  gave  his  spare  time  for  two  weeks  to  the  Bible,  and,  at  the  end  of  that, 
declared  openly:  "Henceforth,  under  all  circumstances,  I  will  act  for  God." 
His  last  words  while  dying,  at  the  Astor  House,  New  York,  were :  "  I  thank 
God  for  all  His  goodness  to  me.  He  has  been  very  good  to  me."  When  he 
entered  heaven  he  did  not  have  to  run  a  blockade,  for  it  was  amid  the  cheers  of 
a  great  welcome.  The  other  Christian  Admiral  will  be  honored  until  the  day 
when  the  fires  from  above  shall  lick  up  the  waters  from  beneath,  and  there  shall 
be   no  more  sea. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  439 

Oh,  while  old  ocean's  breast 

Bears  a  white  sail, 
And  God's  soft  stars  to  rest 

Guide  through  the  gale, 
Men  will  him  ne'er  forget 
f  Old  hearts  of  oak, 

Farragut,  Farragut, 

Thunderbolt  stroke  ! 

When  in  Mobile  Bay  the  monitor  Tecumseh  sunk  from  a  torpedo,  and  the 
great  war-ship  Brooklyn,  that  was  to  lead  the  squadron,  turned  back,  he  said  he 
was  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  to  advance  or  retreat,  and  he  says :  "  I  prayed, 
'  O  God,  who  created  man  and  gave  him  reason,  direct  what  to  do.  Shall  I  go 
on  ?'    And  a  voice  commanded  me :    '  Go  on.'    And  I  went  on." 

Was  there  ever  a  more  touching  Christian  letter  than  that  which  he  wrote 
to  his  wife  from  his  flagship  Hartford  ? 

My  Dearest  Wife. — I  write  and  leave  this  letter  for  you.  I  am  going  into  Mobile  Bay  in 
the  morning,  if  God  is  my  leader,  and  I  hope  He  is,  and  in  Him  I  place  my  trust.  If  He  thinks  it 
is  the  proper  place  for  me  to  die  I  am  ready  to  submit  to  His  will  in  that  as  in  all  other  things. 
God  bless  and  preserve  you,  my  darling,  and  my  dear  boy,  if  anything  should  happen  to  me. 
May  His  blessings  rest  upon  you,  and  your  dear  mother,  and  all  your  sisters  and  their  children. 

Cheerful  to  the  end,  he  said,  on  board  the  Tallapoosa,  in  the  last  voyage 
he  ever  took  :     "  It  would  be  well  if  I  died  now,  in  harness." 

The  sublime  Episcopal  service  for  the  dead  was  never  more  appropriately 
read  than  over  his  casket,  and  well  did  all  the  forts  of  New  York  harbor 
thunder  as  his  body  was  brought  to  the  wharf,  and  well  did  the  minute  guns 
sound  and  the  bells  toll  as  in  a  procession  having  in  its  ranks  the  President 
of  the  United  States  and  his  Cabinet,  and  the  mighty  men  of  land  and  sea, 
the  old  Admiral  was  carried  amid  hundreds  of  thousands  of  uncovered  heads  on 
Broadway,  and  laid  on  his  pillow  of  dust  in  beautiful  Woodlawn,  amid  the 
pomp  of  our  autumnal  forests. 

Ye  veterans  who  sailed  and  fought  under  him,  take  your  Admiral's  God 
and  Christ  for  your  God  and  Christ.  After  a  few  more  conflicts  you  too  will 
rest.  For  the  few  remaining  fights  with  sin,  and  death,  and  hell  make  ready. 
Strip  your  vessel  for  the  fray ;  hang  the  sheet  chains  over  the  side ;  send  down 
the  top-gallant  masts  ;  barricade  the  wheel ;  rig  in  the  flying  jib-boom  ;  steer 
straight  for  the  shining  shore,  and  hear  the  shout  of  the  Great  Commander  of 
earth  and  heaven  as  He  cries  from  the  shrouds :  "  To  him  that  overcometh, 
will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of 
God." 


Mats  of  tfje  &grs. 


ANCIENT  WARRIORS   IN   ARMED   PANOPLY,   AND   THE  STRIFE  OF 
BROTHER  AGAINST   BROTHER. — THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

ILITARY  science  in  the  Bible  is  set  forth  in  a  very 
interesting  manner.  In  olden  times  all  the  men  between 
twenty  and  fifty  years  of  age  were  enrolled  in  the  army, 
and  then  a  levy  was  made  for  a  special  service.  There 
were  only  three  or  four  classes  exempt — those  who  had 
built  a  house  and  had  not  occupied  it;  those  who  had 
planted  a  garden  and  had  not  reaped  the  fruit  of  it ; 
those  who  were  engaged  to  be  married  and  yet  had  not 
led  the  bride  to  the  altar ;  those  who  were  yet  in  the 
first  year   of  wedded  life ;    those   who   were  so   nervous 

that  they  could  not  look  upon  an  enemy  but  they  fled,  and  could 

not  look  upon  blood  but  they  fainted. 

EARLY   WEAPONS    OF  WARFARE. 

The  army  was  in  three  divisions — the  centre,  and  right  and 
left  wings.  The  weapons  of  defense  were  helmet,  shield,  breast- 
plate, buckler.  The  weapons  of  offense  were  sword,  spear, 
javelin,  arrow,  catapult — which  was  merely  a  bow  swung  by 
machinery,  shooting  arrows  at  vast  distances;  great  arrows,  one 
arrow  as  large  as  several  men  could  lift,  and  ballista,  which 
was  a  sling  swung  by  machinery,  hurling  great  rocks  and  large 
pieces  of  lead  to  vast  distances.  The  shields  were  made  of 
woven  willow-work,  with  three  thicknesses  of  hide,  and  a  loop  inside  through 
which  the  arm  of  the  warrior  might  be  thrust ;  and  when  these  soldiers  were 
marching  to  attack  an  enemy  on  the  level  all  these  shields  touched  each  other, 
making  a  wall  moving  but  impenetrable ;  and  then  when  they  attacked  a 
fortress  and  tried  to  capture  a  battlement  this  shield  was  lifted  over  the  head 
so  as  to  resist  the  falling  missiles.  The  breastplate  was  made  of  two  pieces  of 
leather,  brass  covered,  one  piece  falling  over  the  back.  At  the  side  of  the 
warrior  the  two  pieces  fastened  with  buttons  or  clasps.  The  bows  were  so  stout 
and  stiff  and  strong  that  warriors  often  challenged  each  other  to  bend  one.  The 
strings  of  the  bow  were  made  from  the  sinews  of  oxen.  A  case  like  an  inverted 
pyramid  was  fastened  to  the  back,  that  case  containing  the  arrows,  so  that 
when    the  warrior  wanted    to    use    an    arrow    he  would    put    his   arm   over  his 

(440) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


441 


shoulder  and  pull  forth  the  arrow  for  the  fight.  The  ankle  of  the  foot  had  an 
iron  boot.  When  a  wall  was  to  be  assaulted  a  battering-ram  was  brought  up. 
A  battering-ram  was  a  great  beam  swung  on  chains  in  equilibrium.  The 
battering-ram  would  be  brought  close  up  to  the  wall  and  then  a  great  number 
of  men  would  take  hold  of  this  beam,  push  it  back  as  far  as  they  could  and 
then  let  go,  and  the  beam  became  a  great  swinging    pendulum  of   destruction. 

Twenty  or  forty  men 
would  stand  in  a 
movable  tower  on  the 
back  of  an  elephant, 
the  elephant  made 
drunk  with  wine,  and 
then  headed  toward  the 
enemy,  and  what  with 
the  heavy  feet  and  the 
swinging  proboscis  and 
the  poisoned  arrows 
shot  from  the  movable 
tower,  the  destruction 
was  appalling.  War 
chariots  were  in  vogue 
and  they  were  on  two 
wheels  so  they  could 
easily  turn.  A  sword 
was  fastened  to  the 
pole  between  the 
horses,  so  when  they 
went  ahead  the  sword 
thrust  and  when  they 
turned  around  it  would 
mow  down.  The  armies 
carried  flags  beautifully 
embroidered.  The  tribe 
of  Judah  carried  a  flag 
embroidered  with  a  lion ; 
tribe  of  Reuben,  em- 
broidered with  a  man ; 
tribe  of  Dan,  embroid- 
ered with  cherubim.  The  noise  of  the  host  as  they  moved  on  was  over- 
whelming. What  with  the  clatter  of  shields  and  the  rumbling  of  wheels  and 
the  shouts  of  the  captains,  and  the  vociferations  of  the  entire  host,  the  prophet 
says  it  was  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea.  Because  the  arts  of  war  have  been 
advancing    all  these  years  you  are  not  to    couclude    that  these  armies  of  olden 


SIEGE   OF  TYRE. 


(442) 


chivai.ry.—  From  the  Painting  by  Frank  Dicksee. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  443 

times  were  uncontrollable  mobs.  I  could  quote  you  four  or  five  passages 
of  Scripture  showing  you  that  they  were  thoroughly  drilled;  they  marched 
step  to  step,  shoulder  to  shoulder. 

FOREIGN   NATIONS  JEALOUS   OF   US. 

Nothing  could  be  more  important  than  a  great  national  encampment. 
Undrilled  troops  can  never  stand  before  those  which  are  drilled.  At  a  time  when 
other  nations  are  giving  such  care  to  military  tactics,  it  behooves  this  nation 
to  lack  nothing  in  skill.  We  shall  never  have  another  war  between  North 
and  South.  The  old  decayed  bone  of  contention,  American  slavery,  has  been 
cast  out,  although  here  and  there  a  depraved  politician  takes  it  up  to  see  if 
he  can  gnaw  something  off  of  it.  We  are  floating  off  further  and  further  from 
the  possibility  of  sectional  strife,  but  about  foreign  invasion  I  am  not  so  sure. 
There  is  absolutely  no  room  on  this  continent  for  any  other  nation.  I  have 
been  across  the  country  again  and  again,  and  I  know  that  we  have  not  a 
half-inch  of  ground  for  the  gouty  foot  of  foreign  despotism  to  stand  on.  I  do 
not  know  but  that  a  half-dozen  nations,  envious  of  our  prosperity,  may  want 
to  give  lis  a  wrestle.  During  our  Civil  WTar  there  were  two  or  three  nations 
that  could  hardly  keep  their  hands  off  of  us.  It  is  very  easy  to  pick  national 
quarrels,  and  if  our  nation  escapes  it  much  longer  it  will  be  the  exception. 
If  a  foreign  foe  should  come,  we  want  men  like  those  of  1812,  and  like  those 
who  fought  on  both  sides  in  1862.  We  want  them  all  up  and  down  the  coast, 
Pulaski  and  Fort  Sumter  in  the  same  chorus  of  thunder  as  Fort  Lafayette  and 
Fort  Hamilton,  men  who  will  not  only  know  how  to  fight,  but  how  to  die. 
When  such  a  time  comes,  if  it  ever  does  come,  the  generation  on  the  stage 
of  action  will  say :  "  My  country  will  care  for  my  family  as  they  did  in  the 
soldiers'  asylums  for  the  orphans  in  the  Civil  War,  and  my  country  will  honor 
my  dust  as  it  honors  those  who  preceded  me  in  patriotic  sacrifice,  and  once  a 
year  at  any  rate,  on  Decoration  Day,  I  shall  be  resurrected  into  the  remem- 
brance of  those  for  whom  I  died.     Here  I  go,  for  God  and  my  country." 

If  foreign  foe  should  ever  come,  all  sectional  animosities  would  be  oblit- 
erated. Here  go  our  regiments  into  battle,  side  by  side,  15th  New  York 
Volunteers,  10th  Alabama  Cavalry,  14th  Pennsylvania  Riflemen,  10th  Massa- 
chusetts Artillery,  7th  South  Carolina  Sharpshooters.  I  have  no  faith  in  the 
cry :  "  No  North,  no  South,  no  East,  no  West."  Let  all  four  sections  keep 
their  peculiarities  and  their  preferences,  each  doing  its  own  work  and  not 
interfering  with  each  other ;  each  of  the  four  carrying  its  part  in  the  great 
harmony — the  bass,  the  alto,  the  tenor,  the  soprano  in  the  grand  march  of 
the  Union. 

Contrast  the  feeling  of  sectional  bitterness  in  1862  with  the  feeling  of  sec- 
tional unity  in  1888.  At  the  first  date  the  South  had  banished  the  national 
air,  "  The  Star-Spangled  Banner,"  and  the  North  had  banished  the  popular  air 
of  "Way  Down  South  in  Dixie."    The  Northern  people  were  "  mudsills"  and  the 


(444) 


war.—  From  the  Painllng  by  Jas.  Drummond. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  445 

Southern  people  were  "  white  trash."  The  more  Southern  people  were  killed  in 
battle,  the  better  the  North  liked  it.  The  more  Northern  people  killed  in 
battle,  the  better  the  South  liked  it.  For  four  years  the  head  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  or  Jefferson  Davis  would  have  been  worth  a  million  dollars,  if  delivered 
on  either  side  the  line.  No  need  now,  standing  in  our  pulpits  and  platforms, 
of  saying  that  the  North  and  South  did  not  hate  each  other.  To  estimate  how 
dearly  they  loved  each  other,  count  up  the  bombshells  that  were  hurled,  and 
the  carbines  that  were  loaded,  and  the  cavalry  horses  that  were  mounted ; 
North  and  South  facing  each  other  all  armed,  in  the  attempt  to  kill.  The  two 
sections  not  only  marshalled  all  their  earthly  hostilities,  but  tried  to  leach  up 
and  get  hold  of  the  sword  of  heaven,  and  the  prayer  of  the  Northern  and 
Southern  pulpits  gave  more  information  to  the  heavens  about  the  best  mode  of 
settling  this  trouble  than  was  ever  used.  For  four  years  both  sides  tried  to  get 
hold  of  the  Lord's  thunderbolts,  but  could  not  quite  reach  them.  At  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war  we  had  not  for  months  heard  of  my  dear  uncle,  Samuel 
J.  Talmage,  President  of  the  Oglethorpe  University,  in  Georgia.  He  was  about 
the  grandest  man  I  ever  knew,  and  as  good  as  good  could  be.  The  first  we 
heard  of  him  was  his  opening  prayer  in'  the  Confederate  Congress  in  Richmond, 
which  was  reported  in  the  New  York  papers,  which  prayer,  if  answered,  would, 
to  say  the  least,  have  left  all  his  Northern  relatives  in  very  uncomfortable 
circumstances.  The  ministry  at  the  North  prayed  one  way  and  the  ministry 
at  the  South  prayed  the  other  way.  No  use  in  hiding  the  fact  that  the  North 
and  the  South  cursed  each  other  with  a  withering  and  all-consuming  curse. 

WAR   CONTRASTED  WITH*  PEACE. 

Beside  that  antipathy  of  war  time  I  place  the  complete  accord  of  this  time. 
Not  long  ago  a  meeting  in  New  York  was  held  to  raise  money  to  build  a  home 
at  Richmond  for  crippled  Confederate  soldiers,  the  meeting  presided  over  by  a 
man  who  lost  an  arm  and  a  leg  in  fighting  on  the  Northern  side,  and  the  leg 
not  lost  so  hurt  that  it  does  not  amount  to  much.  The  Cotton  Exhibition  held 
not  long  ago  in  Atlanta  was  attended  by  tens  of  thousands  of  Northern  people, 
and  by  General  Sherman,  who  was  greeted  with  kindness,  as  though  they  had 
never  seen  him  before.  At  the  New  Orleans  Exhibition,  held  two  years  ago, 
every  Northern  State  was  represented.  A  thousand-fold  khidlier  feeling  after 
the  war  than  before  the  war.  No  more  use  of  gunpowder  in  this  country,  except 
for  rifle  practice,  or  Fourth  of  July  pyrotechnics,  or  a  shot  at  a  roebuck  in  the 
Adirondacks.  Brigadier-Generals  in  the  Southern  Confederacy  making  their 
fortunes  as  lawyers  in  the  Northern  cities.  Rivers  of  Georgia,  Alabama  and 
North  Carolina  turning  mills  of  New  England  capitalists.  The  old  lions  of 
war — Fort  Sumter,  and  Moultrie,  and  Lafayette,  and  Pickens,  and  Hamilton, 
sound  asleep  on  their  iron  paws,  and  instead  of  raising  money  to  keep  enemies 
out  of  our  New  York  Harbor,  raising  money  for  the  Bartholdi  statue  on  Bedloe's 
Island,  figure  of  Liberty  with  uplifted  torch  to  light  the  way  to  all  who  want 


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(446) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  447 

to  come  in.  Instead  of  war  antipathies,  when  yon  could  not  cross  the  line 
between  the  contestants  without  fighting  yonr  way  with  keen  steel,  or  getting 
through  by  passes  carefully  scrutinized  at  every  step  by  bayonets,  you  need 
only  a  railroad  ticket  from  New  York  to  Charleston  or  New  Orleans  to  go 
clear  through,  and  there  is  no  use  for  any  weapon  sharper  or  stronger  than  a 
steel  pen.  Since  the  years  of  time  began  their  roll  has  there  ever  been  in  about 
two  decades  such  an  overwhelming  antithesis  as  between  the  war  time  of  com- 
plete bitterness  and  this  time  of  complete   sympathy  ? 

Contrast  also  the  domestic  life  of  those  times  with  the  domestic  life  of 
these  times.  Many  of  you  were  either  leaving  home  or  far  away  from  it, 
communicating  by  uncertain  letter.  What  a  morning  that  was  when  you  left 
home !  Father  and  mother  crying,  sisters  crying,  you  smiling  outside,  but 
crying  inside.  Everybody  nervous  and  excited.  Boys  of  the  blue  and  gray ! 
whether  you  started  from  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  or  the  Savannah, 
or  the  Androscoggin,  don't  you  remember  the  scenes  at  the  front  door, 
at  the  rail-car  window,  on  the  steamboat  landings  ?  The  huzza  could  not 
drown  out  the  suppressed  sadness.  Don't  you  remember  those  charges  to  write 
home  often,  take  good  care  of  yourself,  be  good  boys,  and  the  good-by  kiss 
which  they  thought,  and  you  thought,  might  be  forever?  Then  the  homesick- 
ness as  you  paced  the  river  bank  on  a  starlight  night  on  picket  duty,  and  the 
sly  tears  which  you  wiped  off  when  you  heard  a  group  at  the  camp-fire  sing- 
ing the  plantation  song  about  the  old  folks  at  home.  The  dinner  of  hard-tack 
on  Thanksgiving  Day,  the  Christmas  without  any  presents,  and  the  long 
nights  in  the  hospital  so  different  from  the  sickness  when  you  were  at  home, 
with  mother  and  sister  at  the  bedside  and  the  clock  in  the  hall  giving  the 
exact  moment  for  the  medicine ;  and  that  forced  march,  when  your  legs 
ached,  and  your  head  ached,  and  your  wounds  ached,  and  more  than  all,  your 
heart  ached.  Home-sickness  which  had  in  it  a  suffocation  and  a  pang  worse 
than  death.  You  never  got  hardened  as  did  the  guardsman  in  the  Crimean 
War,  who  heartlessly  wrote  home  to  his  mother :  "I  do  not  want  to  see  any 
more  crying  letters  come  to  the  Crimea  from  you.  Those  I  have  received  I 
put  into  my  rifle,  after  loading  it,  and  have  fired  them  at  the  Russians, 
because  you  appear  to  have  a  strong  dislike  of  them.  If  you  had  seen  as 
many  killed  as  I  have  you  would  not  have  as  many  weak  ideas  as  you  now 
have." 

NEWS   FROM   THE   BATTLE. 

You  never  felt  like  that.  When  a  soldier's  knapsack  was  found  after  his 
death  in  the  American  war  there  was  generally  a  careful  package  containing 
a  Bible,  a  few  photographs  and  letters  from  home.  On  the  other  hand,  tens 
of  thousands  of  homes  waited  for  news,  parents  saying:  "Twenty  thousand 
killed !  I  wonder  if  our  boy  was  among  them."  Fainting  dead  away  in  post- 
offices  and  telegraph  stations.  Both  the  ears  of  God  filled  with  the  sobs  and 
agonies  of  kindred  waiting  news,  or  dropping   under  the  announcement  of  bad 


(448) 


peace. — From  the  Painting  by  James  Drummond. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  449 

news.  Speak,  swamps  of  the  Chickahominy,  and  midnight  lagoons  and  fire- 
rafts  of  the  Mississippi,  and  gunboats  before  Vicksburg,  and  weeks  of  Antietam, 
and  tell  to  all  the  mountains,  and  valleys,  and  rivers,  and  lakes  of  North  a^id 
South,  jeremiads  of  war  times  that  have  never  been  syllabled. 

Beside  that  domestic  perturbation  and  home-sickness  of  those  days  put  the 
sweet  domesticity  of  to-day.  The  only  camp-fire  you  now  ever  sit  at  is  the 
one  kindled  in  stove,  or  furnace,  or  hearth.  Instead  of  a  half  ration  of  salt 
pork,  a  repast  luxuriant  because  partaken  of  by  loving  family  circle  and  in 
secret  confidence.  Oh !  now  I  see  whom  those  letters  were  for,  the  letters  you, 
the  young  soldier,  took  so  long  in  your  tent  to  write,  and  that  you  were  so 
particular  to  put  in  the  mail  without  any  one  seeing  you,  lest  you  be  teased 
by  your  comrades.  God  spared  you  to  get  back,  and  though  the  old  people 
have  gone  you  have  a  home  of  your  own  construction,  and  you  often  contrast 
those  awful  absences,  and  filial,  and  brotherly,  and  loverly  heart-breaks  with  your 
present  residence,  which  is  the  dearest  place  you  will  find  this  side  of  heaven. 
The  place  where  your  children  were  born  is  the  place  where  you  want  to  die. 
To  write  the  figures  of  1862  I  set  up  four  crystals — crystals  of  tears.  To 
write  the  figures  of  1888  I  stand  up  four  members  of  your  household — figures 
of  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  hair — if  I  can  get  them  to  stand  still  long  enough. 

Contrast  also  the  religious  opportunities  of  twenty  years  ago  with  now. 
Often  on  the  march  from  Sunday  morn  till  night,  or  commanded  by  officers 
who  considered  the  names  of  God  and  Christ  of  no  use  except  to  swear  by. 
Sometimes  the  drum-head  the  pulpit,  and  you  standing  in  heat  or  cold,  all  the 
surroundings  of  military  life  having  a  tendency  to  make  you  reckless.  No 
privacy  for  prayer  or  Bible  reading.  No  sound  of  church  bells.  Sabbath 
spent  far  away  from  the  place  where  you  were  brought  up.  Now  the  choicest 
sanctuaries,  easy  pew,  all  Christian  surroundings,  the  air  full  of  God  and  Christ, 
and  heaven  and  doxology.  Three  mountains  lifting  themselves  into  the  holy 
light — Mount  Sinai  thundering  its  law,  Mount  Calvary  pleading  the  sacrifice, 
Mount  Pisgah  displaying  the  Promised  Land. 

Contrast  of  national  condition  :  1862,  spending  money  by  the  millions  in 
devastation  of  property  and  life ;  1888,  the  finances  so  reconstructed  that  all 
the  stock  gamblers  of  Wall  street  combined  cannot  make  a  national  panic ; 
1862,  surgeons  of  the  land  setting  broken  bones,  and  amputating  gangrened 
limbs,  and  studying  gunshot  fractures,  and  inventing  easy  ambulances  for  the 
wounded  and  dying;  1888,  surgeons  giving  their  attentions  to  those  in  casualty 
of  agriculture,  of  commerce  or  mechanical  life,  the  rushing  of  the  ambulance 
through  our  streets,  not  suggesting  battle,  but  quick  relief  of  some  one  fallen  in 
peaceful  industries;  1862,  35,000,000  inhabitants  in  this  land ;  1888,60,000,000; 
1862,  wheat  about  80,000,000  bushelsj  1888,  the  wheat  will  be  about  500,000,000 
bushels;  1862,  Pacific  coast  five  weeks  from  the  Atlantic;  1888,  for  three 
reasons — Union  Pacific,  Southern  Pacific  and  Northern  Pacific — only  seven  days 
29 


(45o) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  451 

across.     Look  at  the  long  line  of  churches,   universities,    asylums   and    houses 
with  which  during  the  last  few  years  this  land  has  been  decorated. 

THE   BURIED   HEROES. 

Living  soldiers  of  the  North  and  South,  take  a  new  and  special  ordination 
at  each  season  of  the  year,  to  garland  the  sepulchres  of  your  fallen  comrades. 
Nothing  is  too  good  for  their  memories.  Turn  all  the  private  tombs  and  the 
national  cemeteries  into  gardens.  Ye  dead  of  Malvern  Hill,  and  Cold  Harbor, 
and  Murfreesboro,  and  Manassas  Junction,  and  Cumberland  Gap,  and  field 
hospital,  receive  these  floral  offerings  of  the  living  soldiers. 

But  they  shall  come  again,  all  the  dead  troops.  We  sometimes  talk 
about  earthly  military  reviews,  such  as  took  place  in  Paris  in  the  time  of 
Marshal  Ney,  in  London  in  the  time  of  Wellington,  and  in  our  own  land,  but 
what  tame  things  compared  with  the  final  review,  when  all  the  armies  of  the 
ages  shall  pass  for  divine  and  angelic  inspection.  St.  John  says  the  armies  of 
heaven  ride  on  white  horses,  and  I  don't  know  but  many  of  the  old  cavalry 
horses  of  earthly  battle,  that  were  wounded  and  worn  out  in  service,  may  have 
resurrection.  It  would  be  only  fair  that,  raised  up  and  ennobled,  they  would 
be  resurrected  for  the  grand  review  of  the  judgment  day.  It  would  not  take 
any  more  power  to  reconstruct  their  bodies  than  to  reconstruct  ours,  and  I 
should  be  very  glad  to  see  them  among  the  white  horses  of  Apocalyptic  vision. 
Hark  to  the  trumpet  blast,  the  reveille  of  the  last  judgment.  They  come  up 
— all  the  armies  of  all  lands  and  all  centuries,  on  whichever  side  they  fought, 
whether  for  freedom  or  despotism,  for  the  right  or  the  wrong.  They  come !  They 
come!  Darius,  and  Cyrus,  and  Sennacherib,  and  Joshua,  and  David,  leading 
forth  the  armies  of  Scriptural  times ;  Hannibal  and  Hamilcar  leading  forth  the 
armies  of  the  Carthaginians ;  Victor  Emanuel  and  Garibaldi  leading  on  the 
armies  of  the  Italians;  Tamerlane  and  Ghengis  Khan  followed  by  the  armies 
of  Asia;  Gustavus  Adolphus,  and  Ptolemy  Philopater,  and  Xerxes,  and  Alex- 
ander, and  Semiramis,  and  Washington,  leading  battalion  after  battalion.  The 
dead  American  armies  of  1776,  and  1812,  and  1,000,000  of  Northern  and  Southern 
dead  in  our  Civil  War — they  come  up ;  they  pass  on  in  review.  The  6,000,000 
fallen  in  Napoleonic  battles;  the  12,000,000  Germans  fallen  in  the  Thirty 
Years'  War;  the  15,000,000  fallen  in  the  war  under  Sesostris ;  the  20,000,000 
fallen  in  the  wars  of  Justinian ;  the  25,000,000  fallen  in  Jewish  wars ;  the 
80,000,000  fallen  in  the  Crusades;  the  180,000,000  fallen  in  the  wars  with 
Saracens  and  Turks;  the  35,000,000,000  estimated  to  have  fallen  in  battle — 
enough,  according  to  one  statistician,  if  they  stood  four  abreast,  to  reach  clear 
around  the  earth  442  times. 

But  we  shall  have  time  to  see  them  pass  in  review  before  the  throne  of 
judgment,  the  cavalrymen,  the  artillerymen,  the  spearmen,  the  infantry,  the 
sharpshooters,  the  gunners,  the  sappers,  the  miners,  the  archers,  the  skirmishers, 
men   of  all   colors,    of  all    epaulets,    of  all    standards,  of  all   weaponry,  of  all 


452 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


countries.  Let  the  earth  be  especially  balanced  to  bear  their  tread.  Forward! 
Forward  I  Let  the  orchestra  of  the  heavenly  galleries  play  the  grand  march, 
joined  by  all  the  fifers,  drummers  and  military  bands  that  ever  sounded  victory 
or  defeat  at  Kylau  or  Borobino,  Marathon  or  Thermopylae,  Bunker  Hill  or 
Yorktown,  Solferino  or  Balaklava,  Sedan  or  Gettysburg,  from  the  time  when 
Joshua  halted  astronomy  above  Gibeon  and  Ajalon  till  the  last  man  surrendered 
to  Garnet  Wolseley  at  Tel-el-Kebir.  Nations,  companies,  battalions,  ages,  cen- 
turies and  the  universe!  Forward  in  the  grand  review  of  the  judgment!  For- 
ward !  Gracious  and  eternal  God !  On  that  day  may  it  be  found  that  we  are 
all  marching  in  the  right  regiment  and  that  we  carried  the  right  standard,  and 
that  we  fought  under  the  right  commander,  all  heaven,  some  on  amethystine 
battlement  and  others  standing  in  the  shining  gates,  some  on  pearly  shore  and 
others  on  turreted  heights,  giving  us  the  resounding,  million-voiced  cheer: 
"  Lo,  him  that  overcometh !  " 


&  Wgf)tfi  punter. 


MORAL   ILLUSTRATIONS    TAKEN   FROM   THE  CHASE. 

SHUNTING  is  a  sport  in  our  day;  but  in  the  lands 
and  the  times  infested  with  wild  beasts,  it  was 
a  matter  of  life  or  death  with  the  people.  It 
was  very  different  from  going  out  on  a  sunshiny 
afternoon  with  a  patent  breech-loader,  to  shoot 
reed-birds  on  the  flats,  when  Pollux,  and  Achilles, 
and  Diomedes  went  out  to  clear  the  land  of  lions, 
and  tigers,  and  bears.  The  Bible  sets  forth 
Nimrod  as  a  hero,  when  it  presents  him  with 
broad  shoulders,  and  shaggy  apparel,  and  sun- 
browned  face,  and  arm  bunched  with  muscle — 
"  a  mighty  hunter  before  the  Lord."  I  think  he 
used  the  bow  and  the  arrow  with  great  success 
practising  archery. 

I  have  thought  if  it  is  such  a  grand  thing 
and  such  a  brave  thing  to  clear  wild  beasts  out  of  a  country,  if  it  is  not  a 
better  and  braver  thing  to  hunt  down  and  destroy  those  great  evils  of  society 
that  are  stalking  the  land  with  fierce  eye,  bloody  paw,  and  sharp  tusk,  and 
quick  spring. 

How  much  awkward  Christian  work  there  is  done  in  the  world!  How 
many  good  people  there  are  who  drive  souls  away  from  Christ,  instead  of 
bringing  them  to  Him  ! — religious  blunderers  who  upset  more  than  they  right. 
Their  gun  has  a  crooked  barrel  and  kicks  as  it  goes  off.  They  are  like  a 
clumsy  comrade  who  goes  along  with  skilful  hunters;  at  the  very  moment 
he  ought  to  be  most  quiet  he  is  cracking  an  alder  or  falling  over  a  log,  and 
frightening  away  the  game. 

Truman  Osborne,  one  of  the  evangelists  who  went  through  this  country 
some  years  ago,  had  a  wonderful  art  in  the  right  direction.  He  came  to  my 
father's  house  one  day,  and  while  we  were  all  seated  in  the  room,  he  said: 
"Mr.  Talmage,  are  all  your  children  Christians?"  Father  said:  "Yes,  all 
but  De  Witt." 

Then  Truman  Osborne  looked  down  into  the  fire-place,  and  began  to  tell 
a  story  of  a  storm  that  came  on  the  mountains,  and  all  the  sheep  were  in  the 
fold ;    but  there  was    one    lamb   outside    that    perished    in    the    storm.     Had  he 

(453) 


(454) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  455 

looked  me  in  the  eye,  I  should  have  been  angered  when  he  told  me  that  story; 
but  he  looked  into  the  fire-place,  and  it  was  so  pathetically  and  beautifully 
done  that  I  never  found  any  peace  until  I  was  sure  I  was  inside  the  fold, 
where  the  other  sheep  are. 

ARCHERS   OF   OLDEN    TIMES. 

The  archers  of  old  times  studied  their  art.  They  were  very  precise  in  the 
matter.  The  old  books  gave  special  directions  as  to  how  the  archer  should  go 
and  as  to  what  an  archer  should  do.  He  must  stand  erect  and  firm,  his  left 
foot  a  little  in  advance  of  his  right  foot.  With  his  left  hand  he  must  take 
hold  of  the  bow  in  the  middle,  and  then  with  the  three  fingers  and  the  thumb 
of  his  right  hand  he  should  lay  hold  of  the  arrow  and  affix  it  to  the  string — 
so  precise  was  the  direction  given.  But  how  clumsy  we  are  about  religious 
work.  How  little  skill  and  care  we  exercise !  How  often  our  arrows  miss  the 
mark !  Oh,  that  we  might  learn  the  art  of  doing  good  and  become  "  mighty 
hunters  before  the  Lord  !  " 

In  the  first  place,  if  you  want  to  be  effectual  in  doing  good,  you  must  be 
very  sure  of  your  weapon.  There  was  something  very  fascinating  about  the 
archery  of  olden  times.  Perhaps  you  do  not  know  what  they  could  do  with 
the  bow  and  arrow.  Why  the  chief  battles  fought  by  the  English  Plantagenets 
were  with  the  long  bow.  They  would  take  the  arrow  of  polished  wood,  feather 
it  with  the  plume  of  a  bird,  and  then  it  would  fly  from  the  bow-string  of 
plaited  silk.  The  broad  fields  of  Agincourt,  and  Solway  Moss,  and  Neville's 
Cross,  heard  the  loud  thrum  of  the  archers  bow-string. 

Now,  my  Christian  readers,  we  have  a  mightier  weapon  than  that.  It  is 
the  arrow  of  the  gospel ;  it  is  a  sharp  arrow ;  it  is  a  straight  arrow ;  it  is 
feathered  from  the  wing  of  the  dove  of  God's  Spirit ;  it  flies  from  a  bow  made 
out  of  the  wood  of  the  cross.  As  far  as  I  can  estimate  or  calculate,  it  has 
brought  down  400,000,000  souls.  Paul  knew  how  to  bring  the  notch  of  that 
arrow  on  to  that  bow-string,  and  its  whir  was  heard  through  the  Corinthian 
theatres,  and  through  the  court-room,  until  the  knees  of  Felix  knocked  together. 
It  was  that  arrow  that  stuck  in  Luther's  heart  when  he  cried  out :  "  Oh,  my 
sins !  Oh,  my  sins !  "  If  it  strike  a  man  in  the  head,  it  kills  his  skepticism  j 
if  it  strike  him  in  the  heel,  it  will  turn  his  step ;  if  it  strike  him  in  the  heart, 
he  throws  up  his  hands,  as  did  one  of  old  when  wounded  in  the  battle,  crying: 
"  O  Galilean,  Thou  hast  conquered." 

In  the  armory  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  there  are  old  corslets  which  show 
that  the  arrows  of  the  English  used  to  go  through  the  breastplate,  through  th& 
body  of  the  warrior,  and  out  through  the  backplate.  What  a  symbol  of  that 
gospel  which  is  sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword,  piercing  to  the  dividing 
asunder  of  soul  and  body,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow. 

If  you  want  to  succeed  in  gospel  hunting  you  must  have  courage.  If  the 
hunter  stand  with  trembling  hand  or  shoulder  that  flinches  with  fear,  instead  of 


456 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


his  taking  the  catamount,  the  catamount  takes  him.  What  would  become  of  the 
Greenlander  if,  when  out  hunting  for  the  bear,  he  shou1d  stand  shivering  with 
terror  on  an  iceberg  ?  What  would  have  become  of  Du  Chaillu  and  Livingstone 
in  the  African  thicket  with  a  faint  heart  and  a  weak  knee?  When  a  panther 
comes  within  twenty  paces  of  you,  and  it  has  its  eye  on  you,  and  it  has  squatted 
for  the  fearful  spring,    "  Steady,  there." 

THE   MONSTER   OF    INTEMPERANCE. 

Courage,  O  ye  spiritual    hunters !     There   are    great    monsters   of  iniquity 
prowling  all  around  about  the  community.     Shall  we   not,  in   the    strength   of 


A   MODERN   CLUB-ROOM. 


God,  go  forth  and  combat  them  ?  We  not  only  need  more  heart,  but  more 
backbone.  What  is  the  Church  of  God  that  it  should  fear  to  look  in  the  eye 
any  transgression?  There  is  the  Bengal  tiger  of  drunkenness  that  prowls 
around,  and  instead  of  attacking  it,  how  many  of  us  hide  under  the  church  pew  or 
the  communion  table  ?  There  is  so  much  invested  in  it  we  are  afraid  to  assault  it 
— millions  of  dollars  in  barrels,  in  vats,  in  spigots,  in  cork-screws,  in  gin  palaces 
with  marble  floors,  and  Italian-top  tables,  and  chased  ice-coolers ;  and  in  the  strych- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  457 

nine,  and  the  logwood,  and  the  tartaric  acid,  and  the  nux  vomica,  that  go  to  make 
up  our  "  pure"  American  drinks.  I  looked  with  wondering  eyes  on  the  "Heidel- 
berg tun."  It  is  the  great  liquor  vat  of  Germany,  which  is  said  to  hold  800  hogs- 
heads of  wine,  and  only  three  times  in  100  years  has  it  been  filled.  But  as  I 
stood  and  looked  at  it  I  said  to  myself:  "That  is  nothing — 800  hogsheads. 
Why,  our  American  vat  holds  4,500,000  barrels  of  strong  drinks,  and  we  keep 
300,000  men  with  nothing  to  do  but  to  see  that  it  is  filled." 

Oh !  to  attack  this  great  monster  of  intemperance,  and  the  kindred  mon- 
sters of  fraud  and  uncleanness,  requires  you  to  rally  all  your  Christian  courage. 
Through  the  press,  through  the  pulpit,  through  the  platform,  you  must  assault 
it.  Would  to  God  that  all  our  American  Christians  would  band  together  for 
holy  Christian  reform. 

Oh,  how  many  good  men  are  being  led  astray  by  this  monster  of  iniquity, 
this  giant  curse  of  the  age  and  of  civilization,  this  destroyer  of  home,  this 
blaster  of  hope,  this  vicegerent  of  Satan.  I  could  give  you  the  history  in  a 
minute  of  one  of  the  best  friends  I  ever  had.  Outside  of  my  own  family  I 
never  had  a  better  friend.  He  welcomed  me  to  my  home  at  the  West.  He 
was  of  splendid  personal  appearance,  but  he  had  an  ardor  of  soul  and  a  warmth 
of  affection  that  made  me  love  him  like  a  brother.  I  saw  men  coming  out  of 
the  saloons  and  gambling  hells,  and  they  surrounded  my  friend  and  they  took 
him  at  the  weak  point,  his  social  nature,  and  I  saw  him  going  down,  and  I 
had  a  fair  talk  with  him — for  I  never  yet  saw  a  man  you  could  not  talk  with 
on  the  subject  of  his  habits,  if  you  talk  with  him  in  the  right  way.  I  said  to 
him  :  "  Why  don't  you  give  up  your  bad  habits  and  become  a  Christian  ?" 
I  remember  now  just  how  he  looked,  leaning  over  his  counter,  as  he  replied: 
"  I  wish  I  could.  Oh,  sir,  I  should  like  to  be  a  Christian,  but  I  have  gone  so 
far  astray  I  can't  get  back." 

So  the  time  went  on.  After  a  while  the  day  of  sickness  came.  I  was 
summoned  to  his  sick  bed.  I  hastened.  It  took  me  but  a  very  few 
moments  to  get  there.  I  was  surprised  as  I  went  in.  I  saw  him  in  his  ordin- 
ary dress,  fully  dressed,  lying  on  top  of  the  bed.  I  gave  him  my  hand,  and 
he  seized  it  convulsively  and  said:  "Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you!  Sit  down 
there."  I  sat  down  and  he  said  :  "  Mr.  Talmage,  just  where  you  sit  now  my 
mother  sat  last  night.  She  has  been  dead  twenty  years.  Now,  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  I  am  out  of  my  mind,  or  that  I  am  superstitious ;  but,  sir,  she 
sat  there  last  night  just  as  certainly  as  you  sit  there  now — the  same  cap  and 
apron  and  spectacles.  It  was  my  old  mother — she  sat  there."  Then  he  turned 
to  his  wife  and  said,  "  I  wish  you  would  take  these  strings  off  the  bed ; 
somebody  is  wrapping  strings  around  me  all  the  time.  I  wish  you  would  stop 
that  annoyance."  She  said,  "  There  is  nothing  here."  Then  I  saw  it  was 
delirium.  He  said,  "Just  where  you  sit  now  my  mother  sat,  and  she  said, 
'  Roswell,  I  wish  you  would  do  better — I  wish  you  would  do  better.'  I  said, 
1  Mother,  I  wish  I  could  do  better ;  I  try  to  do    better,    but    I    can't.      Mother, 


45§ 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


you  used  to  help  me ;  why  can't  you  help  me  now  ?  '  And,  sir,  I  got  out  of  bed, 
for  it  was  a  reality,  and  I  went  to  her,  and  threw  my  arms  around  her  neck,  and 
I  said,  '  Mother,  I  will  do  better,  but  you  must  help ;  I  can't  do  this  alone.' "  I 
knelt  down  and  prayed.     That  night  his  soul  went  to  the  Lord  that  made  it. 

"Arrangements  were  made  for  the  obsequies.  The  question  was  raised 
whether  they  should  bring  him  to  the  church.  Somebody  said,  "  You  cannot 
bring  such  a  dissolute  man  as  that  into  the  church."  I  said,  "  You  will  bring 
him  in  church ;   he  stood  by  me  when  he  was  alive,  and   I   will   stand   by   him 

when  he  is  dead.  Bring 
him."  As  I  stood  in  the 
pulpit  and  saw  them  carry- 
ing the  body  up  the  aisle, 
I  felt  as  if  I  could  weep 
tears  of  blood. 

On  one  side  of  the 
pulpit  sat  his  little  child 
of  eight  years,  a  sweet, 
beautiful  little  girl  that  I 
have  seen  him  hug  convul- 
sively in  his  better  moments. 
He  put  on  her  all  jewels, 
all  diamonds,  and  gave  her 
all  pictures  and  toys,  and 
then  he  would  go  away  as 
if  hounded  by  an  evil  spirit, 
to  his  cups  and  the  house 
of  shame — a  fool  to  the 
correction  of  the  stocks. 
She  looked  up  wondering- 
ly.  She  knew  not  what  it 
all  meant.  She  was  not 
old  enough  to  understand 
the  sorrow  of  an  orphan 
child. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  pulpit  sat  the  men  who  had  ruined  him ;  they 
were  the  men  who  had  poured  the  wormwood  into  the  orphan's  cup ;  they  were 
the  men  who  had  bound  him  hand  and  foot.  I  knew  them.  How  did  they 
seem  to  feel?  Did  they  weep?  No.  Did  they  say,  "What  a  pity  that  so 
generous  a  man  should  be  destroyed  ?  "  No.  Did  they  sigh  repentingly  over 
what  they  had  done  ?  No ;  they  at  there,  looking  as  vultures  look  at  the 
carcass  of  a  lamb  whose  heart  they  had  ripped  out.  So  they  sat  and  looked 
at  the  coffin  lid,  and  I  told  them  the  judgment  of  God  upon  those  who  had 
destroyed  their  fellows.     Did  they  reform  ?     I  was  told  they  were  in  the  places 


THE   TWO   ROADS. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  459 

of  iniquity  that  night  after  my  friend  was  laid  in  Oakwood  Cemetery,  and  they 
blasphemed  and  they  drank.  Oh,  how  merciless  men  are,  especially  after  they 
have  destroyed  you.  Do  not  look  to  men  for  comfort  or  help.  Look  to  God. 
But  there  is  a  man  who  will  not  reform.  He  says :  "  I  won't  reform."  Well, 
then,  how  many  acts  are  there  in  a  tragedy  ?     I  believe  five. 

Act  I. — A  young  man  starting  off  from  home.  Parents  and  sisters  weeping 
to  have  him  go.  Wagon  rising  over  the  hill.  Farewell  kiss  flung  back.  Ring 
the  bell  and  let  the  curtain  fall. 

Act  II. — The  marriage  altar.  Full  organ.  Bright  lights.  Long  white  veil 
trailing  through  the  aisle.  Prayer  and  congratulation,  and  exclamation  of  "  How 
well  she  looks  !  " 

Act  III. — A  woman  waiting  for  staggering  steps.  Old  garments  stuck 
into  the  broken  window  pane.  Marks  of  hardship  on  the  face.  The  biting 
of  the  nails  of  bloodless  fingers.  Neglect,  and  cruelty,  and  despair.  Ring  the 
bell  and  let  the  curtain  drop. 

Act  IV. — Three  graves  in  a  dark  place — grave  of  the  child  that  died 
for  lack  of  medicine,  grave  of  the  wife  that  died  of  a  broken  heart,  grave 
of  the  man  that  died  of  dissipation.  Oh !  what  a  blasted  heath  with  three 
graves !     Plenty  of  weeds,  but  no  flowers.     Ring  the  bell  and  let  the  curtain  drop. 

Act  V. — A  destroyed  soul's  eternity.  No  light ;  no  music ;  no  hope ; 
anguish  coiling  its  serpents  around  the  heart;  blackness  of  darkness  forever. 
But  I  cannot  look  any  longer.  Woe !  woe !  I  close  my  eyes  to  this  last  act 
of  the  tragedy.     Quick !  quick !  ring  the  bell  and  let  the  curtain  drop. 

"  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the 
days  of  thy  youth ;  but  know  thou  that  for  all  these  things  God  will  bring  thee 
into  judgment."  "There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  to  a  man,  but  the  end 
thereof  is  death."  Be  thou  a  mighty  hunter  against  such  ravening  beasts  of 
iniquity. 

I  think  it  was  in  1793  that  there  went  out  from  Lucknow,  India,  under 
the  sovereign,  the  greatest  hunting  party  that  was  ever  projected.  There  were 
10,000  armed  men  in  that  hunting  party.  There  were  camels,  and  horses,  and 
elephants.  On  some,  princes  rode,  and  royal  ladies,  under  exquisite  housing, 
and  500  coolies  waited  upon  the  train,  and  the  desolate  places  of  India  were 
invaded  by  this  excursion,  and  the  rhinoceros,  and  deer,  and  elephant,  fell  under 
the  stroke  of  the  sabre'  and  bullet.  After  a  while  the  party  brought  back 
trophies  worth  50,000  rupees,  having  left  the  wilderness  of  India  ghastly  with 
the  slain  bodies  of  wild  beasts. 

Would  to  God  that  instead  of  here  and  there  a  straggler  going  out  to  fight 
these  great  monsters  of  iniquity  in  our  country,  the  million  membership  of  our 
churches  would  band  together  and  hew  in  twain  these  great  crimes  that  make 
the  land  frightful  with  their  roar,  and  are  fattening  upon  the  bodies  and  souls 
of  immortal  men.  Who  is  ready  for  such  a  party  as  that  ?  Who  will  be  a  mighty 
hunter  for  the  Lord  ? 


460 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


If  Mithridates  liked  hunting  so  well  that  for  seven  years  he  never  went  in- 
doors, what  enthusiasm  ought  we  to  have  who  are  hunting  for  immortal  souls  ? 
If  Domitian  practised  archery  until  he  could  stand  a  boy  down  in  the  Roman 
amphitheatre,  with  a  hand  out,  the  fingers  outstretched,  and  then  the  king  could 
shoot  an  arrow  between  the  fingers  without  wounding  them,  to  what  drill  and 
what  practice  ought  not  we  subject  ourselves  in  order  to  become  spiritual  archers 
and  "  mighty  hunters  before  the  Lord !" 

But  let  me  say  you  will  never  work  any  better  than  you  pray.  The  old 
archers  took  the  bow,  put  one  end  of  it  down  beside  the  foot,  elevated  the  other 


the  young  hunter.— his  first  vos..—From  the  Painting  by  J.  Fluggen. 

end,  and  it  was  the  rule  that  the  bow  should  be  just  the  size  of  the  archer;  if 
it  was  just  his  size  then  he  would  go  into  the  battle  with  confidence.  Let  me 
say  that  your  power  to  project  good  in  the  world  will  correspond  exactly  to  your 
own  spiritual  stature. 

THE   SINNER'S   DEATH   LEAP. 

There    is  a  forest    in  Germany,  a  place    they  call  the  "  Deer  Leap " — two 
crags  about  eighteen  yards  apart,  between  a  fearful  chasm.     This  is  called  the 


THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  461 

"Deer  Leap,"  because  once  a  hunter  was  on  the  track  of  a  deer;  it  came  to 
one  of  these  crags ;  there  was  no  escape  for  it  from  the  pursuit  of  the  hunter, 
and  in  utter  despair  it  gathered  itself  up,  and  in  the  death  agony  attempted  to 
jump  across.  Of  course  it  fell,  and  was  dashed  to  death  on  the  rocks  far 
beneath.  Here  is  a  path  to  heaven.  It  is  plain ;  it  is  safe.  Jesus  marks  it 
out  for  every  man  to  walk  in.  But  here  is  a  man  who  says,  "  I  won't  walk 
in  that  path ;  I  will  take  my  own  way." 

He  comes  up  until  he  confronts  the  chasm  that  divides  his  soul  from 
heaven.  Now  his  last  hour  has  come,  and  he  resolves  that  he  will  leap  that 
chasm,  from  the  heights  of  earth  to  the  heights  of  heaven.  Stand  back  now 
and  give  him  full  swing,  for  no  soul  ever  did  that  successfully.  Let  him  try. 
Jump !  Jump !  He  misses  the  mark  and  goes  down,  depth  below  depth, 
"  destroyed  without  remedy."  Men  !  angels  !  devils  !  what  shall  we  call  that  place 
of  awful  catastrophe  ?  Let  it  be  known  forever  as  "  The  Sinner's  Death  Leap." 
It  is  said  that  when  Charlemagne's  host  was  overpowered  by  three  armies 
of  the  Saracens  in  the  Pass  of  Roncesvalles,  his  warrior,  Roland,  in  terrible 
earnestness,  seized  a  trumpet,  and  blew  it  with  such  terrific  effect  that  the 
opposing  army  reeled  back  with  terror;  but  at  the  third  blast  of  the  trumpet 
it  broke  in  two. 

I   see  your  soul  fiercely  assailed   by  all   the   powers  of  earth  and  hell.     I 
put  the  mightier  trumpet  of  the  gospel  to  my  lips,  and  I  blow  it  three  times. 
Blast  First — "  Whosoever  will,  let  him  come." 
Blast  Second — "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found." 
Blast  Third — "  Now  is  the  accepted  time ;   now  is  the  day  of  salvation." 
Does  not  the  host  of  your  sins  fall  back  ?     But  the  trumpet  does  not,  like 
thut  of  Roland,  break  in  two.     As  it  was  handed  down  to  us  from  the  lips  of 
our    fathers,  we    hand    it    down    to    the   lips  of   our  children,  and  tell  them  to 
sound  it  when  we    are    dead,  that   all    the    generations  of  men  may  know  that 
our  God  is  a  pardoning  God,  a  sympathetic  God,  a  loving  God ;  and  that  more 
to  Him  than  the  anthems  of  heaven  is  the  joy  of  seeing  the  wanderer  return. 
Dr.  Prime,  in  his  book  of  wonderful  interest,  entitled  "Around  the  World," 
describes  a  tomb  in  India   of  marvellous    architecture.     Twenty  thousand    men 
were  twenty-two  years  in  erecting   that  and  the  building   around   it.     Standing 
at   that   tomb,  if   you    speak  or  sing,  after  you  have  ceased  you  hear  the  echo 
coming  from  a  height  of   150  feet.     It  is  not  like  other  echoes.     The  sound  is 
drawn  out  in  sweet  prolongation,  as  though  the  angels   of  God  were   chanting 
on  the  wing. 

How  many  souls  of  my  readers,  in  the  tomb  of  sin,  will  lift  up  the  voice 
of  penitence  and  prayer?  If  now  they  would  cry  unto  God,  the  echo  would 
drop  from  afar — not  struck  from  the  marble  cupola  of  an  earthly  mausoleum, 
but  sounding  back  from  the  warm  hearts  of  angels,  flying  with  the  news ;  for 
there  is  joy  among  the  angels  of  God  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth. 


jforgtbeness. 


THE  EVILS  OF  A  MALEVOLENT  DISPOSITION,  AND  HOW  TO 

CORRECT  THEM. 

JHAT  a  pillow  embroidered  of  all   colors  hath   the  dying 
day!     The   cradle  of  clouds   from   which  the  sun 
rises  is  beautiful  enougb,  but  it   is    surpassed  by 
the  many-colored  mausoleum  in  which  at  evening 
it  is  buried.     Sunset   among   the    mountains!     It 
almost    takes    one's    breath    away    to    recall   the 
scene.     The    long    shadows    stretching    over    the 
plain  make    the  glory  of   the  departing  light,  on 
the  tip-top  crags   and   struck   aslant    through  the 
foliage,  the  more  conspicuous,     Saffron  and  gold,  purple  and  crim- 
son commingled.     All  the  castles  of  ckmd  in  conflagration.     Burn- 
ing. Moscows    on    the    sky.     Hanging    gardens    of  roses    at  their 
deepest  blush.     Banners  of  vapor,  red   as  if  from   carnage,  in  the 
battle  of  elements.     The  hunter  among   the  Adirondacks  and   the 
Swiss  villager  among  the  Alps  know  what  is  a  sunset  among  the 
mountains.     After  a  storm  at  sea  the  rolling  grandeur  into  which 
the  sun  goes  down    to   bathe    at   nightfall   is   something  to  make 
weird    and    splendid    dreams    out    of    for    a    lifetime.     Alexander 
Smith  in  his  poem  compares  the  sunset  to  "  the   barren   beach  of 
hell,"  but  this  wonderful  spectacle  of  nature  makes  me  think  of  the  burnished 
wall  of  heaven.     Paul  in  prison  writing  remembers  some  of  the    gorgeous  sun- 
sets   among    the    mountains    of   Asia    Minor,  and    how    he  had    often  seen  the 
towers  of  Damascus  blaze   in   the    close   of  the    Oriental   days,  and   he  flashes 
out  that  memory  when  he  says:  "Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath."- 

LIFE'S    EXASPERATIONS. 

Sublime  and  all-suggestive  duty  for  people  then  and  people  now.  For- 
giveness before  sundown.  He  who  never  feels  the  throb  of  indignation  is 
imbecile.  He  who  can  walk  among  the  injustices  of  the  world,  inflicted  upon 
himself  and  others,  without  flush  of  cheek,  or  flash  of  eye,  or  agitation  of 
nature,  is  either  in  sympathy  with  wrong  or  semi-idiotic.  When  Ananias,  the 
high-priest,  ordered  the  constables  of  the  court-room  to  smite  Paul  in  the 
mouth,  Paul  fired  up  and  said:    "God  shall  smite  thee,  thou  whited  wall." 

It  all  depends  on  what  you  are  mad  at  and  how  long  the  feeling  lasts 
whether  anger  is  right    or    wrong.     Life   is    full    of   exasperations.     Saul   after 

(462) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


463 


David,  Succoth  after  Gideon,  Korah  after  Moses,  the  Pasquins  after  Augustus, 
the  Pharisees  after  Christ,  Henry  VIII.  after  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  every 
one  has  had  his    pursuers,  and   we   are    swindled,  or   belied,  or  misrepresented, 


the  last  day  OF  sir  Thomas  more. — From  the  Painting  by  J.  R.  Herbert. 

Sir  Thomas  More,  born  in  London,  1480,  on  becoming  of  age  obtained  a  seat  in  Parliament,  brought  first  into  prominent  notice  by  opposing  sub- 
sidy demand  of  Henry  VII.  Was  knighted  in  1515,  became  treasurer  of  the  exchequer  in  r52o,  and  in  1523  was  chosen  speaker  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. He  became  Chancellor  in  1530,  during  which  time  he  was  such  a  strong  Catholic  partisan  that  he  opposed  the  divorce  of  Henry  VIII.  from 
Catharine  of  Aragon,  for  which  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower,  where  he  languished  a  while,  and  was  then  brought  to  the  block.  He  is  charged  by  some 
with  having  persecuted  Protestants,  though  Erasmus  testifies  to  the  contrary.  During  his  imprisonment  and  to  the  last,  his  daughter  spent  much  of 
her  time  in  the  dungeon  with  him. 


or    persecuted,  or    in    some    way  wronged,    and    the    danger    is    that    healthful 
indignation  shall  become  baleful  spite,  and  that  our  feelings    settle    down   into 


464  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

a  prolonged  outpouring  of  temper  displeasing  to  God  and  ruinous  to  ourselves. 
Other  things  being  equal,  the  man  who  preserves  good  temper  will  come 
out  ahead.  An  old  essayist  says  the  celebrated  John  Henderson,  of  Bristol, 
England,  was  at  a  dining  party  where  political  excitement  ran  high  and  the 
debate  got  angry,  and  while  Henderson  was  speaking,  his  opponent,  unable  to 
answer  his  argument,  dashed  a  glass  of  wine  in  his  face,  when  the  speaker 
deliberately  wiped  the  liquid  from  his  face  and  said :  "  This,  sir,  is  a  digres- 
sion ;  now,  if  you  please,  for  the  main  argument."  While  worldly  philosophy 
could  help  but  very  few  to  such  equipoise  of  spirit,  the  grace  of  God  could  help 
any  man  to  such  a  triumph.  "  Impossible,"  you  say,  "  I  would  have  left  the 
table  in  anger  or  have  knocked  the  man  down." 

A    FAITH    CURE. 

But  I  have  come  to  believe  that  nothing  is  impossible  if  God  helps,  since 
what  I  saw  at  Beth-Shan  Faith-Cure  in  London,  England,  two  summers  ago. 
While  the  religious  service  was  going  on,  Rev.  Dr.  Boardman,  glorious  man !  since 
gone  to  his  heavenly  rest,  was  telling  the  sick  people  present  that  Christ  was 
there  as  of  old  to  heal  all  diseases,  and  that,  if  they  would  only  believe,  their 
sickness  would  depart.  I  saw  a  woman  near  me,  with  hand  and  arm  twisted 
of  rheumatism^  and  her  wrist  was  fiery  with  inflammation,  and  it  looked  like 
those  cases  of  chronic  rheumatism  which  we  have  all  seen  and  sympathized 
with,  cases  beyond  all  human  healing.  At  the  preacher's  reiteration  of  the 
words  :  "  Will  you  believe  ?  Do  you  believe  ?  Do  you  believe  now  ? "  I  heard 
this  poor  woman  say  with  an  emphasis  which  sounded  through  the  building, 
"  I  do  believe."  And  then  she  laid  her  twisted  arm  and  hand  out  as  straight 
as  your  arm  and  hand,  or  mine.  If  I  had  seen  one  rise  from  the  dead  I  would 
not  have  been  much  more  thrilled.  Since  then  I  believe  that  God  will  do 
anything  in  answer  to  our  prayer  and  in  answer  to  our  faith,  and  he  can  heal 
our  bodies,  and  if  our  soul  is  all  twisted,  and  misshapen  of  revenge,  and  hate, 
and  inflamed  with  sinful  proclivity  he  can  straighten  that  also  and  make  it 
well  and  clean. 

A  boy  in  Sparta,  having  stolen  a  fox,  kept  him  under  his  coat,  and  though 
the  fox  was  gnawing  his  vitals,  he  submitted  to  it  rather  than  expose  his  mis- 
deed. Many  a  man  with  a  smiling  face  has  under  his  jacket  an  animosity  that 
is  gnawing  away  the  strength  of  his  body  and  the  integrity  of  his  soul.  Better 
get  rid  of  that  hidden  fox  as  soon  as  possible.  There  are  hundreds  of  domestic 
circles  where  that  which  is  most  needed  is  the  spirit  of  forgiveness.  Brothers 
apart,  and  sisters  apart,  and  parents  and  children  apart.  Solomon  says  a  brother 
offended  is  harder  to  be  won  than  a  strong  city.  Are  there  not  enough  sacred 
memories  of  your  childhood  to  bring  you  together?  The  Rabbins  recount  how 
that  Nebuchadnezzar's  son  had  such  a  spite  against  his  father  that  after  he  was 
dead  he  had  his  father  burned  to  ashes,  and  then  put  the  ashes  into  four  sacks 
and  tied  them  to  four  eagles'  necks  which  flew  away  in  opposite  directions.     And 


'THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


465 


there  are  now  domestic  antipathies  that  seem  forever  to  have  scattered  all  parental 
memories  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  How  far  the  eagles  fly  with  those  sacred 
ashes  !  The  hour  of  sundown  makes  to  that  family  no  practical  suggestion. 
Thomas  Carlyle,  in  his  biography  of  Frederick  the  Great,  says  the  old  king  was 
told  by  the  confessor  he  must  be  at  peace  with  his  enemies  if  he  wanted  to 
enter  heaven.  Then  he  said  to  his  wife,  the  queen :  "  Write  to  your  brother 
after  I  am  dead  that  I  forgive  him."     Roloff,  the  confessor,  said :    "  Her  Majesty 


The  young  princes  in  THE  TOWER.— From  the  Painting  by  Paul  Delaroche. 

The  princes  were  Edward  V.  and  Richard,  Duke  of  York,  sons  of    Edward  IV.;  being  in  rightful  succession  to  the  throne  of  England,  they 
were  secretly  murdered  in  the  Tower  by  their  unnatural  uncle,  who,  upon  assuming  the  crown,  took  the  title  Richard  III. 

had  better  write  to  him  immediately."  "  No,"  said  the  king,  "  after  I  am  dead ; 
that  will  be  safer."  So  he  let  the  sun  of  his  earthly  existence  go  down  upon  his 
wrath.  Edward  the  III.  was  so  angered  by  a  taunt  that  the  young  princes  stood 
between  him  and  the  throne,  that  he  ordered  them  murdered  though  they  were 
his  nephews,  and  spent  the  rest  of  his  days  deploring  the  act. 
30 


466  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

Oh,  my  reader,  associate  the  sunset  with  your  magnanimous,  out-and-out. 
unlimited  renunciation  of  all  hatreds  and  forgiveness  of  all  foes.  I  admit  it  is 
the  most  difficult  of  all  graces  to  practise,  and  at  the  start  you  may  make  a  com- 
plete failure,  but  keep  on  in  the  attempt  to  practise  it.  Shakespeare  wrote  ten 
plays  before  he  reached  Hamlet,  and  seventeen  before  he  reached  Merchant  of 
Venice,  and  twenty-eight  plays  before  he  reached  Macbeth.  And  gradually  you 
will  come  from  the  easier  graces  to  the  most  difficult.  Beside  that,  it  is  not  a 
matter  of  personal  determination  so  much  as  the  laying  hold  of  the  almighty 
arm  of  God,  who  will  help  us  to  do  anything  we  ought  to  do.  Remember  that 
in  all  personal  controversies  the  one  least  to  blame  will  have  to  take  the  first 
step  at  pacification,  if  it  be  ever  effective.  The  contest  between  ^Eschines  and 
Aristippus  resounds  through  history,  but  Aristippus,  who  was  least  to  blame, 
went  to  ^Eschines  and  said :  "  Shall  we  not  agree  to  be  friends  before  we  make 
ourselves  the  laughing  stock  of  the  whole  country?"  And  ^Eschines  said, 
"  Thou  art  a  far  better  man  than  I,  for  I  began  the  quarrel ;  but  thou  hast 
been  the  first  in  healing  the  breach."  And  they  were  always  friends  afterwards. 
So  let  the  one  of  you  that  is  least  to  blame  take  the  first  step  toward  concili- 
ation. The  one  most  in  the  wrong  will  never  take  it.  How  different  was  the 
termination  of  the  feud  between  Richard  III.  and  Henry  VII.,  that  was  carried 
on  for  years  at  frightful  loss,  though  the  former  had  no  shadow  of  right  for 
continuing  it.  The  evil  at  last  comes  upon  all  evil  doers  as  it  did  to  Richard. 
Oh,  it  makes  one  feel  splendidly  to  be  able,  by  God's  help,  to  practise  unlimited 
forgiveness.  It  improves  one's  body  and  soul.  It  will  make  you  measure  three 
or  four  more  inches  around  the  chest  and  improve  your  respiration  so  that  you 
can  take  a  deeper  and  longer  breath.  It  improves  the  countenance  by  scatter- 
ing the  gloom  and  brightening  the  forehead,  and  loosening  the  pinched  look 
about  the  nostril  and  lip,  and  makes  you  somewhat  like  God- Himself. 

THE   DUTY. 

He  is  omnipotence,  and  we  cannot  copy  that.  He  is  independent  of  all  the 
universe,  and  we  cannot  copy  that.  He  is  creative,  and  we  cannot  copy  that. 
He  is  omnipresent,  and  we  cannot  copy  that.  But  He  forgives  with  a  broad 
sweep  all  faults,  and  all  neglects,  and  all  insults,  and  all  wrong-doing ;  and  in 
that  we  may  copy  Him  with  mighty  success.  Go,  harness  that  sublime  action 
of  your  soul  to  an  autumnal  sunset,  the  hour  when  the  gate  of  heaven  opens 
to  let  the  day  pass  into  the  eternities,  and  some  of  the  glories  escape  this 
way  through  the  brief  opening.  We  talk  about  the  Italian  sunsets,  and  sun- 
set amid  the  Apennines,  and  sunset  amid  the  Cordilleras.  But  I  will  tell 
you  how  you  may  see  a  grander  sunset  than  any  mere  lover  of  nature  ever 
beheld;  that  is  by  flinging  into  it  all  your  hatreds  and  animosities,  and  let 
the  horses  of  fire  trample  them,  and  the  chariots  of  fire  roll  over  them,  and 
the  spearmen  of  fire  stab  them,  and  the  beach  of  fire  consume  them,  and  the 
billows  of  fire  overwhelm  them.     The  sublimest  thing   God  does  is  the  sunset. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


467 


The  sublimest  thing  you  can  do   is  forgiveness.     Along  the  glowing  banks  of 
this  coming  eventide  let  the  divine  and  the  human  be  concurrent. 

Hardly  anything  affects  me  so  much,  in  the  uncovering  of  ancient  Pom- 
peii, as  the  account  of  the  soldier  who,  after  the  city  had  for  many  centuries 
been   covered  with    the    ashes    and   scorias    of  Vesuvius,  was  found  standing  in 


LORD  STANLEY  BRINGING  THE   CROWN   OP  RICHARD   TO    RICHMOND,    AFTER   THE   BATTLE    OF    BOSWORTH. 

The  battle  of  Bosworth  was  fought  August  22d,  1485,  between  Richard  III.  and  the  Ear!  of  Richmond  (afterwards  Henry  VII)      In  this  decisive  con* 
trst  the  former  lost  both  his  crown  and  life,  which  terminated  a  long-continued  struggle  for  supremacy  between  the  rival  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

his  place  on  guard,  hand  on  spear  and  helmet  on  head.  Others  fled  at  the 
awful  submergement,  but  the  explorer,  1700  years  after,  found  the  body  of  that 
brave  fellow  in  right  position.  And  it  will  be  a  grand  thing  if,  when  our  last 
moment  comes,  we  are  found  in  right  position  toward  the  world,  as  well  as  in 
right  position  toward  God,  on  guard  and  unfrightened^  by  the  ashes  from  the 
mountain   of  death.     I   do  not  suppose  that  I  am  any  more   of  a  coward  than 


468  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

most  people,  but  I  declare  to  you  that  I  would  not  dare  to  sleep  one  night  if 
there  were  any  being  in  all  the  earth  with  whom  I  would  not  gladly  shake 
hands,  lest,  during  the  night  hours,  my  spirit  dismissed  to  other  realms,  I 
should,  because  of  my  unforgiving  spirit,  be  denied  divine  forgiveness. 

"But,"  you  say,  "I  have  more  than  I  can  bear;  too  much  is  put  upon 
me  and  I  am  not  to  blame  if  I  am  somewhat  revengeful  and  unrelenting." 
Then  I  think  of  the  little  child  at  the  moving  of  some  goods  from  a  store. 
The  father  was  putting  some  rolls  of  goods  on  the  child's  arm,  package  after 
package,  and  some  one  said :  "  That  child  is  being  overloaded,  and  so  much 
ought  not  to  be  put  upon  her,"  when  the  child  responded :  "  Father  knows 
how  much  I  can  carry,"  and  God,  our  Father,  will  not  allow  too  much  impo- 
sition on  His  children.  In  the  day  of  eternity  it  will  be  found  you  had  not 
one  annoyance  too  many,  not  one  exasperation  too  many,  not  one  outrage  too 
many.     Your  heavenly  Father  knows  how  much  you  can  carry. 

When  Mme.  Sontag  began  her  musical  career  she  was  hissed  off  the  stage 
at  Vienna  by  the  friends  of  her  rival,  Amelia  Steininger,  who  had  already 
begun  to  decline  through  her  dissipation.  Years  passed  on,  and  one  day 
Mme.  Sontag,  in  her  glory,  was  riding  through  the  streets  of  Berlin,  when 
she  saw  a  little  child  leading  a  blind  woman,  and  she  said :  "  Come  here,  my 
little  child,  come  here.  Who  is  that  you  are  leading  by  the  hand  ?"  And 
the  little  child  replied:  "That's  my  mother;  that's  Amelia  Steininger.  She 
used  to  be  a  great  singer,  but  she  lost  her  voice  and  she  cried  so  much  about 
it  that  she  lost  her  eyesight."  "  Give  my  love  to  her,"  said  Mme.  Sontag, 
"  and  tell  her  an  old  acquaintance  will  call  on  her  this  afternoon." 

The  next  week  in  Berlin  a  vast  assemblage  gathered  at  a  benefit  for  that 
poor  blind  woman,  and  it  was  said  that  Mme.  Sontag  sang  that  night  as  she 
had  never  sung  before.  And  she  took  a  skilled  oculist,  who  in  vain  tried  to 
give  eyesight  to  the  poor  blind  woman.  Until  the  day  of  Amelia  Steininger's 
death,  Mme.  Sontag  took  care  of  her,  and  her  daughter  after  her.  That  was 
what  the  queen  of  song  did  for  her  enemy. 

But,  oh,  hear  a  more  thrilling  story  still.  Blind  immortal,  poor  and  lost, 
thou  who,  when  the  world  and  Christ  were  rivals  for  thy  heart,  didst  hiss  thy 
Lord  away — Christ  comes  now  to  give  thee  sight,  to  give  thee  a  home,  to 
give  thee  heaven.  With  more  than  a  Sontag's  generosity  He  comes  now  to 
meet  your  need.  With  more  than  a  Sontag's  music  He  comes  to  plead  for 
thy  deliverance. 

A   PROVIDER   AND    DEFENDER. 

We  should  not  let  the  sun  go  down  on  our  wrath,  because  it  is  of  little 
importance  what  the  world  says  of  you  or  does  to  you  when  you  have  the 
affluent  God  of  the  sunset  as  your  provider  and  defender.  People  talk  as  though 
it  were  a  fixed  spectacle  of  nature  and  always  the  same.  But  no  one  ever  saw 
two  sunsets  alike  ;  and  if  the  world  has  existed  6000  years  there  have  been 
about  2,190,00x3  sunsets;  each  of  them  as  distinct  from  all  the  other  pictures  in 


OLIVER   CROMWELL   AT  THE   DEATH  BED   OP   HIS   DAUGHTER. 


Oliver  Cromwell,  son  of  a  baronet,  was  elected  to  the  brief  Parliament  of  1628.  and,  by  encouraging  the  Puritan  sentiment,  he  became  a 
member  of  the  Long  Parliament,  and  also  secured  the  more  influential  position  of  lieutenant-general  of  the  House,  bv  which  he  brought  a  large 
force  of  the  military  under  his  arm,  and  was  able  to  crush  all  opposition  by  making  the  armv  predominant  over  Parliament.  He  at  length 
brought  Charles  I.  to  the  block,  and  on  the  16th  of  December,  1653,  took  the  title  of  Lord  Protector,  thus  becoming  virtually  King  of  Britain. 
The  d  ath  of  his  daughter  Elizabeth  so  affected  him  that  his  strong  heart  broke,  and  one  month  after,  on  September  3d,  1658,  being  the  anni- 
versaries of  his  two  greatest  victories,  at  Dunbar  ani  Worcester,  he  followed  her  to  the  grave. 

(469) 


47o  THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 

the  gallery  of  the  sky  as  Titian's  "  Last  Supper,"  Rubens'  "  Descent  from  the 
Cross,"  Raphael's  "  Transfiguration  "  and  Michael  Angelo's  "  Last  Judgment " 
are  distinct  from  each  other.  If  that  God,  of  such  infinite  resources  that  He  can 
put  on  the  wall  of  the  sky  each  night  more  than  the  Louvre,  and  the  Luxem- 
bourg, and  the  Vatican,  and  the  Dresden,  and  Venetian  galleries  all  in  one,  is 
my  God  and  your  God,  our  provider  and  protector,  what  is  the  use  of  our  worry- 
ing about  any  human  antagonism  ?  If  we  are-  misinterpreted,  the  God  of  the 
many-colored  sunset  can  put  the  right  color  on  our  action.  If  He  can  afford  to 
hang  such  masterpieces  over  the  outside  wall  of  heaven  and  have  them  obliter- 
ated in  an  hour,  He  must  be  very  rich  in  resources  and  can  put  us  through  in 
safety.  If  all  the  garniture  of  the  western  heavens  at  eventide  is  but  the 
upholstery  of  one  of  the  windows  of  our  future  home,  what  small  business  for 
us  to  be  chasing  enemies  ! 

Mohammed  said :  "  The  sword  is  the  key  of  heaven  and  hell ;  a  drop  of 
blood  shed  is  better  than  fasting,  and  wounds  in  the  day  of  judgment  are  resplen- 
dent as  vermilion,  and  odoriferous  as  musk."  The  same  sentiment  was  echoed 
by  Cromwell,  but  the  death  of  his  daughter  changed  his  opinion,  and  my  readers, 
in  the  last  day  we  will  all  find  just  the  opposite  to  be  true,  and  that  the  sword 
never  unlocks  heaven,  and  that  he  who  heals  wounds  is  greater  than  he  who 
makes  them,  and  that  on  the  same  ring  are  two  keys :  God's  forgiveness  of  us 
and  our  forgiveness  of  enemies,  and  these  two  keys  unlock  Paradise. 

THE   CLOCK   OF   EARTHLY    EXISTENCE. 

And  now  I  wish  for  all  of  you  a  beautiful  sunset  in  your  earthly  exist- 
ence. With  some  of  you  it  has  been  a  long  day  of  trouble,  and  with  others 
of  you  it  will  be  far  from  calm.  When  the  sun  rose  at  six  o'clock  it  was  the 
morning  of  youth,  and  a  fair  day  was  prophesied,  but  by  the  time  noonday  of 
mid-life  had  come  and  the  clock  of  your  earthly  existence  had  struck  twelve, 
cloud  racks  gathered  and  tempest  bellowed  in  the  track  of  tempest.  But  as 
the  evening  of  old  age  approaches  I  pray  God  the  skies  may  brighten  and  the 
clouds  be  piled  up  into  pillars  as  of  celestial  temples  to  which  you  go,  or  move 
as  with  mounted  cohorts  come  to  take  you  home.  And  as  you  sink  out  of 
sight  below  the  horizon  may  there  be  a  radiance  of  Christian  example  lingering 
long  after  you  are  gone,  and  on  the  heavens  be  written  in  letters  of  sapphire, 
and  on  the  waters  in  letters  of  opal,  and  on  the  hills  in  letters  of  emerald : 
"  Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down,  neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw  itself,  for 
the  Lord  shall  be  thine  everlasting  light,  and  the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall 
be  ended."     So  shall  the  sunset  of  earth  become  the  sunrise  of  heaven. 


£f)C  Blacfc  ffifant. 


EVIDENCES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   A   FINAL 
RESURRECTION. 

f  BOUT    1853    Easter   mornings   have  wakened  the  earth. 
In  France  for  three  centuries    the    almanacs    made  the 
year  begin  at  Easter,  until  Charles  IX.  made  the  year 
begin  at  January  1.     In  the  Tower  of  London  there  is 
a   royal   pay-roll  of  Edward  I.,  on  which    there    is    an 
entry  of   eighteen    pence  for  400  colored  and    pictured 
Easter  eggs,  with  which  the  people  sported.     In  Russia, 
slaves  were  fed  and  alms  were  distributed  on  Easter. 
Ecclesiastical    councils   met    at    Pontus,  at  Gaul,  at 
Rome,  at  Achaia  to  decide    the    particular  day,  and  after  a  contro- 
versy, more    animated   than  gracious,  decided  it,  and  now  through 
all  Christendom,  in  some  way,  the  first  Sunday  after  the  full  moon 
which  happens  upon  or  next  after  March  21,  is  filled  with  Easter 
rejoicing. 

The  Royal  Court  of  the  Sabbaths  is  made  up  of  fifty-two. 
Fifty-one  are  princes  in  the  royal  household,  but  Easter  is  queen. 
She  wears  a  richer  diadem  and  sways  a  more  jewelled  sceptre,  and 
in  her  smile  nations  are  irradiated.  She  seems  to  step  out  of  the 
snowbank  rather  than  the  conservatory,  come  out  of  the  north  in- 
stead of  the  south,  out  of  the  Arctic  rather  than  the  Tropics,  dis- 
mounting from  the  icy  equinox,  but  welcome  this  queenly  day,  holding  high 
up  in  her  right  hand  the  wrenched-off  bolt  of  Christ's  sepulchre,  and  holding 
high  up  in  her  left  hand  the  key  to  all  the  cemeteries  in  Christendom. 

It  is  an  exciting  thing  to  see  an  army  routed  and  flying.  They  run  each 
other  down.  They  scatter  everything  valuable  in  the  track.  Unwheeled  artil- 
lery, hoof  of  horse  on  breast  of  wounded  and  dying  man.  You  have  read  of 
the  French  falling  back  from  Sedan,  or  Napoleon's  track  of  90,000  corpses  in 
the  snow  banks  of  Russia,  or  of  the  retreat  of  our  own  armies  from  Manassas, 
or  of  the  five  kings  tumbling  over  the  rocks  of  Beth-horon  with  their  armies, 
while  the  hail-storms  of  heaven  and  the  swords  of  Joshua's  host  struck  them 
with  their  fury. 

THE   BLACK   GIANT. 

But  there  is  a  worse  discomfiture.  It  seems  that  a  black  giant  proposed 
to  conquer  the  earth.  He  gathered  for  his  host  all  the  aches,  and  pains,  and 
malarias,  and  cancers,  and  distempers,  and  epidemics  of  the  ages.     He  marched 

(471) 


472 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


them  down,  drilling  them  in  the  northeast  wind  and  amid  the  slush  of 
tempests.  He  threw  up  barricades  of  grave-mounds.  He  pitched  tent  of 
charnel  house.  Some  of  the  troops  marched  with  slow  tread  commanded  by 
consumption,  some  in  double-quick,  commanded  by  pneumonias.  Some  he 
took  by  long  besiegement  of  evil  habit,  and  some  by  one  stroke  of  the  battle-axe 


THE   RIOT  OK  BATTLE. 


of  casualty.  With  bony  hand  he  pounded  at  the  door  of  hospitals  and  sick- 
rooms, and  won  all  the  victories  in  all  the  great  battle-fields  of  all  the  five  conti- 
nents. Forward,  march,  the  conqueror  of  conquerors,  and  all  the  generals,  and 
commanders-in-chief,  and  all  presidents,  and  kings,  and  sultans,  and  czars  drop 
under  the  feet  of  his  war-charger. 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  473 

But  one  Christmas  night  his  Antagonist  was  born.  As  most  of  the 
plagues,  and  sicknesses,  and  despotisms  come  out  of  the  East,  it  was  appro- 
priate that  the  new  Conqueror  should  come  out  of  the  same  quarter.  Power  is 
given  Him  to  awaken  all  the  fallen  or  all  the  centuries  and  of  all  lands,  and 
marshal  them  against  the  black  giant.  Fields  have  already  been  won,  but  the 
last  day  of  the  world's  existence  will  see  the  decisive  battle.  When  Christ 
shall  lead  forth  His  two  brigades,  the  brigade  of  the  risen  dead,  and  the 
brigade  of  the  celestial  host,  the  black  giant  will  fall  back,  and  the  brigade 
from  the  riven  sepulchres  will  take  him  from  beneath,  and  the  brigade  of 
descending  immortals  will  take  him  from  above,  and  death  shall  be  swallowed 
up  in  victory. 

The  old  braggart  that  threatened  the  conquest  and  demolition  of  the  planet 
has  lost  his  throne,  has  lost  his  sceptre,  has  lost  his  palace,  has  lost  his 
prestige,  and  the  one  word  written  over  all  the  gates  of  mausoleum,  and  cata- 
comb, and  necropolis ;  on  cenotaph  and  sarcophagus,  on  the  lonely  khan  of 
the  Arctic  explorer  and  on  the  catafalque  of  great  cathedral ;  written  in  capi- 
tals of  azalea  and  calla-lily,  written  in  musical  cadence,  written  in  doxology 
of  great  assemblages  ;  written  on  the  sculptured  door  of  the  family  vault,  is 
"  Victory."  Coronal  word,  embannered  word,  Apocalyptic  word,  chief  word  of 
the  triumphal  arch  under  which  conquerors  return. 

THE   ABOLITION   OF   DEATH. 

The  Bastile  was  a  formidable  fortress  of  wrong  for  a  long  time,  but  the 
common  people  at  last  laid  siege  to  and  took  it,  and  emptied  its  dungeons. 
Victory !  Word  shouted  at  Cullodeu,  and  Balaklava,  and  Blenheim,  at  Megiddo 
and  Solferino,  at  Marathon,  where  the  Athenians  drove  back  the  Medes ;  at 
Poictiers,  where  Charles  Martel  broke  the  ranks  of  the  Saracens ;  at  Salamis, 
where  Themistocles  in  the  great  sea-fight  confounded  the  Persians,  and  at  the 
door  of  the  eastern  cavern  of  chiselled  rock,  where  Christ  came  out  through  a 
recess  and  throttled  the  King  of  Terrors,  and  put  him  back  in  the  niche  from 
which  the  Celestial  Conqueror  had  just  emerged.  Aha!  when  the  jaws  of  the 
eastern  mausoleum  took  down  the  black  giant,  "  Death  was  swallowed  up  in 
victory."     I  proclaim  the  abolition  of  death. 

The  old  antagonist  is  driven  back  into  mythology,  with  all  the  lore  about 
Stygian  ferry  and  Charon  with  oar  and  boat.  Melrose  Abbey  and  Kenilworth 
Castle  are  no  more  in  ruins  than  is  the  sepulchre.  We  shall  have  no  more 
to  do  with  death  than  we  have  with  the  cloak-room  at  a  Governor's  or  Presi- 
dent's levee.  We  stop  at  such  cloak-room  and  leave  in  charge  of  a  servant 
our  overcoat,  our  overshoes,  our  outward  apparel,  that  we  may  not  be  impeded 
in  the  brilliant  round  of  the  drawing-room. 

Well,  my  readers,  when  we  go  out  of  this  world  we  are  going  to  a  King's 
banquet  and  to  a  reception  of  monarchs,  and  at  the  door  of  the  tomb  we  leave 
the   cloak   of  flesh    and   the  wrappings  with  which  we    meet  the  storms  of  this 


(474) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  475 

world.  At  the  close  of  an  earthly  reception,  under  the  brush  and  broom  of 
the  porter,  the  coat  or  hat  may  be  handed  to  us  better  than  when  we  resigned 
it,  and  the  cloak  of  humanity  will  finally  be  returned  to  us  improved,  and 
brightened,  and  purified,  and  glorified. 

You  and  I  do  not  want  our  bodies  returned  as  they  are  now.  We  want 
to  get  rid  of  all  their  weaknesses,  and  all  their  susceptibilities  to  fatigue,  and 
all  their  slowness  of  locomotion.  They  will  be  put  through  a  chemistry  of 
soil,  and  heat,  and  cold,  and  changing  seasons,  out  of  which  God  will  recon- 
struct them  as  much  better  than  they  are  now  as  the  body  of  the  rosiest 
and  healthiest  child  that  bounds  over  the  lawn  at  Prospect  Park  is  better  than 
the  sickest  patient  in  Bellevue  Hospital. 

But  as  to  our  soul,  we  will  cross  right  over,  not  waiting  for  obsequies, 
independent  of  obituary,  into  a  state  in  every  way  better,  with  wider  room  and 
velocities  beyond  computation ;  the  dullest  of  us  into  companionship  with  the 
very  best  spirits  in  their  very  best  mood,  in  the  very  parlor  of  the  universe, 
the  four  walls  burnished,  and  panelled,  and  pictured,  and  glorified  with  all  the 
splendors  that  the  infinite  God  in  all  the  ages  has  been  able  to  invent. 
Victory ! 

This  view  of  course  makes  it  of  but  little  importance  whether  we  are  cre- 
mated or  sepultured.  If  the  latter  is  dust  to  dust,  the  former  is  ashes  to  ashes. 
If  any  prefer  incineration  let  them  have  it  without  caricature.  The  world  may 
become  so  crowded  that  cremation  may  be  universally  adopted  by  law  as  well 
as  by  general  consent.  Many  of  the  mightiest  and  best  spirits  have  gone  through 
this  process.  Thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  God's  children  have  been 
cremated — P.  P.  Bliss  and  wife,  the  evangelistic  singers,  cremated  by  accident 
at  Ashtabula  bridge  ;  John  Rogers,  cremated  by  persecution  ;  Latimer  and  Ridley, 
cremated  at  Oxford ;  Pothinus  and  Blandina,  a  slave,  and  Alexander,  a  physi- 
cian, and  their  comrades,  cremated  at  the  order  of  Marcus  Aurelius — at  least 
100,000  of  Christ's  disciples  cremated — and  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the 
resurrection  of  their  bodies. 

If  the  world  lasts  as  much  longer  as  it  has  already  been  built,  there  perhaps 
may  be  no  room  for  the  large  acreage  set  apart  for  the  resting  places,  but  that 
time  has  not  come.  Plenty  of  room  yet,  and  the  race  need  not  pass  that  bridge 
of  fire  until  it  comes  to  it.  The  most  of  us  prefer  the  old  way.  But  whether 
out  of  natural  disintegration  or  cremation  we  shall  get  that  luminous,  buoyant, 
gladsome,  transcendent,  magnificent,  inexplicable  structure  called  the  resurrection 
body  ;  you  will  have  it,  I  will  have  it.  I  say  to  you  to-day,  as  Paul  said  to 
Agrippa :  "  Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible  with  you  that  God 
should  raise  the  dead." 

The  far-up  cloud,  higher  than  the  hawk  flies,  higher  than  the  eagle  flies, 
what  is  it  made  of?  Drops  of  water  from  the  Hudson,  other  drops  from  the 
East  River,  other  drops  from  a  stagnant  pool  out  on  Newark  flats — up  yonder 
there,  and  embodied  in  a  cloud,  and  the    sun    kindles    it.     If    God    can   make 


476 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


stich  a  lustrous  cloud  out  of  water  drops,  many  of  them  soiled  and  impure,  and 
fetched  from  miles  away,  can  He  not  transport  the  fragments  of  the  human 
body  from  the  earth,  and  out  of  them  build  a  radiant  body  ?  Cannot  God, 
who  owns  all  the  material  out  of  which  bones  and   muscle  and  flesh  are  made, 


under  THE  greenwood  tree. — From  the  Painting  by  Adrien  Moreau. 

set  them  up  again  if  they  have  fallen  ?  If  a  manufacturer  of  telescopes  drops 
a  telescope  on  the  floor,  and  it  breaks,  can  he  not  mend  it  again  so  you  can 
see  through  it?  And  if  God  drops  the  human  eye  into  the  dust,  the  eye 
which  he  originally  fashioned,  can  He  not  restore  it?  Ay,  if  the  manufac- 
turer of  the  telescope,  by  a  change  of  the  glass   and   a    change    of  focus,    can 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  477 

make  a  better  glass  than  that  which  was  originally  constructed,  and  actually 
improve  it,  do  you  not  think  the  fashioner  of  the  human  eye  may  improve  its 
sight  and  multiply  the  natural  eye  by  the  thousand-fold  additional  forces  of  the 
resurrection  eye  ? 

Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible  with  you  that  God  should 
raise  the  dead  ?  Things  all  around  us  suggest  it.  The  blossoming  woods,  where 
love  delights  to  make  his  bower,  are  re-clothed  in  beauty  with  every  spring.  Out 
of  what  grew  all  these  flowers  ?  Out  of  the  mold  and  the  earth.  Resurrected  ! 
Resurrected !  The  radiant  butterfly,  where  did  it  come  from  ?  The  loathsome 
caterpillar.  That  albatross  that  smites  the  tempest  with  its  wing,  where  did  it 
come  from  ?     A  senseless  shell. 

SEED-LIFE   RESURRECTED. 

Near  3ergerac,  France,  in  a  Celtic  tomb  under  a  block,  were  found  flower 
seed  that  had  been  buried  2000  years.  The  explorer  took  the  flower  seed  and 
planted  it,  and  it  came  up ;  it  bloomed  in  bluebell  and  heliotrope.  Two  thous- 
and years  ago  buried,  yet  resurrected ! 

A  traveller  says  he  found  in  a  mummy-pit  in  Egypt  garden  peas  that  had 
been  buried  there  3000  years  ago.  He  brought  them  out,  and  on  the  4th  of 
June,  1844,  he  planted  them,  and  in  thirty  days  they  sprang  up.  Buried  3000 
years,  yet  resurrected ! 

Where  did  all  this  silk  come  from — the  silk  that  adorns  your  persons  and 
your  homes  ?  In  the  hollow  of  a  staff  a  Greek  missiona^  brought  from  China 
to  Europe  the  progenitors  of  those  worms  that  now  supply  the  silk  markets  of 
many  nations.  The  pageantry  of  bannered  host  and  the  luxurious  articles  of 
•commercial  emporium  blazing  out  from  the  silk  worms.  And  who  shall  be 
Surprised  if  out  of  this  insignificant  earthly  body,  this  insignificant  earthly  life, 
our  bodies  unfold  into  something  worthy  of  the  coming  eternities. 

Put  silver  into  nitric  acid  and  it  dissolves.  Is  the  silver  gone  forever? 
No.  Put  in  some  pieces  of  copper  and  the  silver  reappears.  If  one  force  dis- 
solves, another  force  organizes. 

The  insects  flew  and  the  worms  crawled  last  autumn  feebler  and  feebler, 
and  then  stopped.  They  have  taken  no  food,  they  want  none.  They  lay  dor- 
mant and  insensible,  but  soon  the  south  wind  will  blow  the  resurrection  trum- 
pet, and  the  air  and  the  earth  will  be  full  of  them.  Do  you  not  think  that 
God  can  do  as  much  for  our  bodies  as  He  does  for  the  wasps  and  the  spiders 
and  the  snails  ?  This  morning  at  4.30  o'clock  there  was  a  resurrection.  Out 
of  the  night  the  day.  Every  year  there  is  a  resurrection  in  all  our  gardens. 
Why  not  some  day  a  resurrection  amid  all  the  graves  ? 

Ever  and  anon  there  are  instances  of  men  and  women  entranced.  A  trance 
is  death  followed  by  resurrection  after  a  few  days ;  total  suspension  of  mental 
power  and  voluntary  action.  Rev.  William  Tennent,  a  great  evangelist  of  the 
last  generation,  of  whom  Dr.  Archibald  Alexander  a  man  far  from  being  senti- 


(478) 


THE  ANGEL  OF  THE   RESURRECTION. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  479 

mental,  wrote  in  most  eulogistic  terms — Rev.  William  Tennent  seemed  to  die. 
His  spirit  departed.  People  came  in  day  after  day  and  said:  "He  is  dead; 
he  is  dead."  But  the  soul  that  fled  returned,  and  William  Tennent  lived  to 
write  out  the  experiences  of  what  he  had  seen  while  his  soul  had  gone.  It 
may  be  found  some  time  that  what  is  called  suspended  animation  or  comatose 
state  is  brief  death,  giving  the  soul  an  excursion  into  the  next  world,  from 
which  it  comes  back,  a  furlough  of  a  few  hours  granted  from  the  conflict  of 
life  to  which  it  must  return. 

EVIDENCE   OF   A   FINAL   RESURRECTION. 

Does  not  this  waking  up  of  men  from  trance,  and  this  waking  up  of  in- 
sects from  winter  lifelessness,  and  this  waking  up  of  grains,  buried  3000  years 
ago,  make  it  easier  for  you  to  believe  that  your  body  and  mine  after  the  vaca- 
tion of  the  grave  shall  rouse  and  rally,  though  there  be  3000  years  between 
our  last  breath  and  the  sounding  of  the  archangelic  reveille  ? 

Physiologists  tell  us  that  while  the  most  of  our  bodies  are  built  with  such 
wonderful  economy  that  we  can  spare  nothing,  and  the  loss  of  a  finger  is  a 
hinderment,  and  the  injury  of  a  toe-joint  makes  us  lame,  still  that  we  have 
two  or  three  useless  physical  organs,  and  no  anatomist  or  physiologist  has 
ever  been  able  to  tell  what  they  are  good  for.  They  are  no  doubt  the  founda- 
tion of  the  resurrection  body,  worth  nothing  to  us  in  this  state,  to  be  indispen- 
sably valuable  in  the  next  state.  The  Olympic  games  were  instituted  for  the 
purpose  of  developing  every  organ  and  sinew  of  the  body  but  even  these  did 
not  discover  the  uses  of  the  spleen,  which  gives  us  the  most  pain. 

The  Jewish  rabbis  had  only  a  hint  of  this  suggestion  when  they  said  that 
in  the  human  frame  there  was  a  small  bone  which  they  said  was  to  be  the 
basis  of  the  resurrection  body.  Perhaps  that  may  have  been  a  delusion.  But 
this  thing  is  certain,  the  Christian  scientists  of  our  day  have  found  out  that 
there  are  two  or  three  superfluities  of  body  that  are  something  gloriously  sug- 
gestive of  another  state. 

I  called  at  a  friend's  house  one  summer  day.  I  found  the  yard  all  piled 
up  with  the  rubbish  of  carpenter  and  mason's  work.  The  door  was  off.  The 
plumbers  had  torn  up  the  floor.  The  roof  was  being  lifted  in  cupola.  All  the 
pictures  were  gone,  and  the  paper-hangers  were  doing  their  work.  All  the 
modern  improvements  were  being  introduced  into  that  dwelling.  There  was  not 
a  room  in  the  house  fit  to  live  in  at  that  time,  although  a  month  before  when 
I  visited  that  house  everything  was  so  beautiful  I  could  not  have  suggested  an 
improvement.  My  friend  had  gone  with  his  family  to  the  Holy  Land,  expecting 
to  come  back  at  the  end  of  six  months,  when  the  building  was  to  be  done. 
And,  oh !  what  was  his  joy  when  at  the  end  of  six  months,  he  returned  and  the 
old  house  was  enlarged  and  improved  and  glorified. 

That  is  your  body.  It  looks  well  now — all  the  rooms  filled  with  health, 
and  we  could  hardly  make  a  suggestion.     But  after  a  while  your  soul  will   go 


480  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

to  the  Holy  Land,  and  while  you  are  gone  the  old  house  of  your  tabernacle 
will  be  entirely  reconstructed  from  cellar  to  attic,  and  every  nerve,  and  muscle,  and 
bone,  and  tissue,  and  artery  must  be  hauled  over,  and  the  old  structure  will  be 
burnished  and  adorned  and  raised  and  cupolaed  and  enlarged,  and  all  the 
improvements  of  heaven  introduced,  and  you  will  move  into  it  on  resurrection  day. 
For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved, 
we  have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens. 

MEETING   OF   BODY   AND   SOUL. 

Oh,  what  a  day  when  body  and  soul  meet  again  !  They  are  very  fond  of 
each  other.  Did  your  body  ever  have  pain  and  your  soul  not  pity  it  ?  Or  your 
body  have  a  joy  and  your  sovl  not  re-echo  it  ?  Or,  changing  the  question,  did 
your  soul  ever  have  any  trouble  and  your  body  not  sympathize  with  it  ?  grow- 
ing wan  and  weak  under  the  depressing  influence.  Or,  did  your  soul  ever  have 
a  gladness  but  your  body  celebrated  it  with  kindled  eye  and  cheek  and  elastic 
step  ?  Surely  God  never  intended  two  such  good  friends  to  be  very  long 
separated. 

And  so  when  the  world's  last  Easter  morning  shall  come  the  soul  will 
descend,  crying,  "  Where  is  my  body  ?"  And  the  body  will  ascend,  saying, 
"  Where  is  my  soul  ?"  And  the  Lord  of  the  resurrection  will  bring  them 
together,  and  it  will  be  a  perfect  soul  in  a  perfect  body,  introduced  by  a  perfect 
Christ  into  a  perfect  heaven. 

A  cruel  heathen  warrior  heard  Mr.  Moffat,  the  missionary,  preach  about  the 
resurrection,  and  he  said  to  the  missionary  : 

"  Will  my  father  rise  in  the  last  day  ?" 

"  Yes,"   said  the  missionary. 

"Will  all. the  dead  in  battle  rise?"    said  the  cruel  chieftain. 

"  Yes,"   said  the  missionary. 

"  Then,"  said  the  warrior,  "  let  me  hear  no  more  about  the  resurrection 
day.  There  can  be  no  resurrection,  there  shall  be  no  resurrection.  I  have 
slain  thousands  in  battle.     Will  they  rise  ?" 

Ah,  there  will  be  more  to  rise  on  that  day  than  those  want  to  see  whose 
crimes  have  never  been  repented  of.  But  for  all  others  who  allowed  Christ  to 
be  their  pardon  and  their  life    and  their  resurrection  it  will  be  a  day  of  victory. 

The  thunders  of  the  last  day  will  be  the  salvo  that  greets  you  into  harbor. 
The  lightnings  will  be  only  the  torches  of  triumphal  procession  marching  down 
to  escort  you  home.  Where  is  death?  What  have  we  to  do  with  death? 
As  your  re-united  body  and  soul  swing  off  from  this  planet  on  that  last  day 
you  will  see  deep  gashes  all  up  and  down  the  hills,  deep  gashes  all  through  the 
valleys,  and  they  will  be  the  emptied  graves,  they  will  be  the  abandoned 
sepulchres,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  you  will  appreciate  the  full  exhilaration 
of  the  words,  "  He  will  swallow  up  death  in  victory." 


19alacrs  of  ^plmoor. 


THE    AROMA    THAT    CLUNG    TO    CHRIST'S    GARMENTS 
LIKENED    UNTO    HIS    SWEET    LIFE. 

'iMONG   the    grand    adornments    of    the    city    of    Paris    is 

the  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  with  its  great  towers,  and 

elaborated    rose-windows,  and    sculpturing  of  the   last 

judgment,    with    the    trumpeting    angels    and    rising 

dead ;    its  battlements  of  quatrefoil ;    its  sacristy,  with 

ribbed   ceiling   and  statues    of  saints.     But  there  was 

Uflj^Uy*  j    nothing    in     all     that    building     which     more     vividly 

gWC,    appealed    to    my    plain    republican    tastes     than    the 

'/  *  '     costly  vestments  which    laid   in    oaken  presses — robes 

that  had   been  embroidered  with  gold,  and  been  worn 

by  popes  and    archbishops  on  great  occasions.     There  was  a  robe 

that    had    been  worn    by  Pius  VII.  at    the    crowning   of  the    first 

Napoleon.     There  was  also  a  vestment  that  had  been  worn  at  the 

baptism  of  Napoleon  II.     As  our  guide  opened  the  oaken  presses 

and  brought  out  these  vestments  of  fabulous  cost,  and  lifted  them 

up,  the    fragrance    of    the    pungent    aromatics    in  which    they  had 

been  preserved,  filled  the  place  with  a  sweetness  that  was    almost 

oppressive.     Nothing   that  had    been    done    in    stone    more  vividly 

impressed  me  than  these  things  that  had  been  done  in  cloth,  and 

embroidery,  and  perfume. 

But    here,  my    readers,  I    open    the    drawer    of  a    verse    in    Psalms,  which 

reads,    "All    thy  garments    smell    of   myrrh,  and    aloes,  and   cassia,  out   of  the 

ivory  palaces."     I    look    upon    the    kingly  robes    of  Christ,  and  as  I  lift  them, 

flashing  with  eternal   jewels,  the  whole  house  is  filled  with  the  aroma  of  these 

garments,  which  smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia  out  of  the  ivory  palaces. 

The  King  steps  forth.     His  robes    rustle  and  blaze  as    He  advances.     His 

pomp,  and    power,  and    glory  overmaster  the    spectator.     More    brilliant    is    He 

than  Queen  Vashti  moving   amid  the    Persian    princes ;    than  Marie  Antoinette 

on    the    day  when  Louis    XVI.   put    upon    her    the    necklace  of  eight    hundred 

diamonds;    than  Catharine  when    she  appeared  before  her  ecclesiastical  judges; 

than  Anne  Boleyn  the  da'y  when  Henry  VIII.  welcomed  her  to  his  palace ;  all 

beauty  and  all  pomp  forgotten,  while  we  stand  in  the  presence  of  this  imperial 

glory,    King    of   Zion,    King    of   earth,    King   of   heaven,    King    forever!     His 

garments,  not  worn    out,  not    dust-bedraggled;    but    radiant,  and   jewelled,    and 

redolent.     It  seems  as  if  they  must  have   been   pressed  a  hundred   years  amid 

31  (481, 


(482) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  483 

the  flowers  of  heaven.  The  wardrobes  from  which  they  have  been  taken  must 
have  been  sweet  with  clusters  of  camphire,  and  frankincense,  and  all  manner 
of  precious  wood.  Do  you  not  inhale  the  odors  ?  Ay,  ay.  They  smell  of 
myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia,  out  of  the  ivory  palaces. 

THE   ODORS   OF   CHRIST'S   GARMENTS. 

Your  first  curiosity  is  to  know  why  the  robes  of  Christ  are  odorous  with 
myrrh.  This  was  a  bright-leafed  Abyssinian  plant.  It  was  trifoliate.  The 
Greeks,  Egyptians,  Romans  and  Jews  bought  and  sold  it  at  a  high  price.  The 
first  present  that  was  ever  given  to  Christ  was  a  sprig  of  myrrh,  thrown  on 
His  infantile  bed  in  Bethlehem,  and  the  last  gift  that  Christ  ever  had  was 
myrrh  pressed  into  the  cup  of  His  crucifixion.  The  natives  would  take  a  stone 
and  bruise  the  tree,  and  then  it  would  exude  a  gum  that  would  saturate  all 
the  ground  beneath.  This  gum  was  used  for  purposes  of  merchandise.  One 
.piece  of  it  no  larger  than  a  chestnut  would  whelm  a  whole  room  with  odors. 
It  was  put  in  closets,  in  chests,  in  drawers,  in  rooms,  and  its  perfume  adhered 
almost  interminably  to  anything  ihat  was  anywhere  near  it.  So  when  I  read 
that  Christ's  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  I  immediately  conclude  the  exquisite 
sweetness  of  Jesus.  I  know  that  to  many  He  is  only  like  any  historical  per- 
son :  another  John  Howard;  another  fiendish  Oberland ;  another  Confucius;  a 
grand  subject  for  a  painting ;  an  heroic  theme  for  a  poem ;  a  beautiful  form  for 
a  statue ;  but  to  those  who  have  heard  His  voice,  and  felt  His  pardon,  and 
received  His  benediction,  He  is  music,  and  light,  and  warmth,  and  thrill,  and 
eternal  fragrance.  Sweet  as  a  friend  sticking  to  you  when  all  else  betray. 
Lifting  you  up  while  others  try  to  push  you  down.  Not  so  much  like  morn- 
ing-glories, that  bloom  only  when  the  sun  is  coming  up,  nor  like  "  four- 
o'clocks,"  that  bloom  only  when  the  sun  is  going  down,  but  like  myrrh, 
perpetually  aromatic — the  same  morning,  noon,  and  night — yesterday,  to-day, 
forever.  It  seems  as  if  we  cannot  wear  Him  out.  We  put  on  Him  all  our 
burdens,  and  afflict  Him  with  all  our  griefs,  and  set  Him  foremost  in  all  our 
battles,  and  yet  He  is  ready  to  lift,  and  to  sympathize,  and  to  help.  We  have 
so  imposed  upon  Him  that  one  would  think  in  eternal  affront  He  would  quit 
our  soul ;  and  yet  He  addresses  us  with  the  same  tenderness,  dawns  upon  us 
with  the  same  smile,  pities  us  with  the  same  compassion.  There  is  no  name 
like  His  for  us.  It  is  more  imperial  than  Caesar's,  more  musical  than  Beethoven's, 
more  conquering  than  Charlemagne's,  more  eloquent  than  Cicero's.  It  throbs 
with  all  life.  It  weeps  with  all  pathos.  It  groans  with  all  pain.  It  stoops 
with  all  condescension.  It  breathes  with  all  perfume.  Who  like  Jesus  to  set 
a  broken  bone,  to  pity  a  homeless  orphan,  to  nurse  a  sick  man,  to  take  a 
prodigal  back  without  any  scolding,  to  illumine  a  cemetery  all  plowed  with 
graves,  to  make  a  queen  unto  God  out  of  the  lost  woman  of  the  street,  to 
catch  the  tears  of  human  sorrow  in  a  lachrymatory  that  shall  never  be  broken  ? 
Who  has  such   an   eye   to   see   our  need,  such  a  lip  to  kiss  away  our  sorrow, 


'he  was 


altogether  lovely.  "—From  the  great  Painting  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 


(484) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


4*5 


such  a  hand  to  snatch  us  out  of  the  fire,  such  a  foot  to  trample  our  enemies, 
such  a  heart  to  embrace  all  our  necessities  ?  I  struggle  for  some  metaphor 
with  which  to  express  Him.  He  is  not  like  the  bursting  forth  of  a  full 
orchestra :  that  is  too  loud.  He  is  not  like  the  sea  when  lashed  to  rage  by 
the    tempest :    that   is   too   boisterous. 

Oh !  that  you  all  knew  His  sweetness.  How  soon  you  would  turn  from 
your  novels.  If  the  philosopher  leaped  out  of  his  bath  in  a  frenzy  of  joy,  and 
clapped  his  hands,  and  rushed  through  the  streets,  because  he  had  found  the 
solution  of  a  mathematical  problem,  how  will  you  feel  leaping  from  the  fountain 
of  a  Saviour's  mercy  aud  pardon,  washed  clean  and  made  white  as  snow,  when 
the  question  has  been  solved:  "How  can  my  soul  be  saved?"  Naked,  frost- 
bitten, storm-lashed  soul,  let  Jesus  throw  around  thee  the  "  garments  that  smell 
of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia,  out  of  the  ivory  palaces." 

IVORY   PALACES. 

You  know,  or  if  you 
do  not  know,  I  will  tell 
you  now,  that  some  of 
the  palaces  of  olden  time 
were  adorned  with  ivory. 
Ahab  and  Solomon  had 
their  homes  furnished 
with  it.  The  tusks  of 
African  and  Asiatic  ele- 
phants were  twisted  into 
all  manners  of  shapes, 
and  there  were  stairs  of 
ivory,  and  chairs  of  ivory, 
and  tables  of  ivory,  and 
floors  of  ivory,  and  pillars 
of  ivory,  and  windows  of 
ivory,  and  fountains  that  dropped  into  basins  of  ivory,  and  rooms  that 
had  ceilings  of  ivory.  Oh !  white  and  overmastering  beauty.  Green  tree- 
branches  sweeping  the  white  curbs.  Tapestry  trailing  the  snowy  floors.  Brackets 
of  light  flashing  on  the  lustrous  surroundings.  Silvery  music  rippling  to  the 
beach  of  the  arches.  The  mere  thought  of  it  almost  stuns  my  brain,  and  you 
say,  "  Oh,  if  I  could  only  have  walked  over  such  floors !  If  I  could  have  thrown 
myself  in  such  a  chair !  If  I  could  have  heard  the  drip  and  dash  of  those  foun- 
tains!" You  shall  have  something  better  than  that  if  you  only  let  Christ 
introduce  you.  From  that  place  He  came,  and  to  that  place  He  proposes  to 
transport  you,  for  His  "  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia,  out 
of  the  ivory  palaces." 

Oh,  what  a  place  heaven  must  be !  The  grotto  of  the  Luxembourg  or  the 


GROTTO  IN  THE  LUXEMBOURG  GARDENS. 


486 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


Tuileries  of  the  French,  the  Windsor  Castle  of  the  English,  the  Spanish  Alham- 
bra,  the  Russian  Kremlin,  dungeons  compared  with  it !  Not  so  many  castles  on 
either  side  the  Rhine  as  on  both  sides  of  the  river  of  God  the  ivory  palaces ! 
One  for  the  angels,  insufferably  bright,  winged,  fire-eyed,  tempest-charioted ;  one 
for  the  martyrs,  with  blood-red  robes,  from  under  the  altar ;  one  for  the  King, 
the  steps  of  His  palace  the  crowns  of  the  church  militant ;  one  for  the  singers, 
who  lead  the  one  hundred  and  forty  and  four  thousand  ;  one  for  you,  ransomed 
from  sin  ;    one  for  me,  plucked  from  the  burning.     Oh,  the  ivory  palaces  ! 

As  I  write  it  seems  to  me  as  if  the  windows  of  those  palaces  were  illumined 
for  some  great  victory,  and  I  look  and  see  climbing  the  stairs  of  ivory,  and 
walking  on  floors  of  ivory,  and  looking  from  the  windows  of  ivory,  some  whom 


IT  is  the  lord. — From  the  Painting  by  Audley  Mackworth. 

we  knew  and  loved  on  earth.  Yes,  I  know  them.  There  are  father  and  mother, 
not  eighty-two  years  and  seventy-nine  years,  as  when  they  left  us,  but  blithe  and 
young  as  when  on  their  marriage  day.  And  there  are  brothers  and  sisters, 
merrier  than  when  we  used  to  romp  across  the  meadows  together.  The  cough 
gone.  The  cancer  cured.  The  erysipelas  healed.  The  heart-break  over.  Oh, 
how  fair  they  are  in  the  ivory  palaces !  And  your  dear  little  children  that  went 
out  from  you — Christ  did  not  let  one  of  them  drop  as  He  lifted  them.  He  did 
not  wrench  them  from  you.  No.  They  went  as  from  one  they  loved  well  to 
One  whom  they  loved  better.  If  I  should  take  your  little  child  and  press  its 
soft  face  against  my  rough  cheek,  I  might  keep  it  a  little  while;  but  when 
you,  the  mother,  came  along,  it  would  struggle  to  go  with  you.  And  so  you 
stooc?  holding  your  dying  child  when  Jesus  passed  by  in  the  room,  and  the  little 
me    sprang  out  to  greet  Him.      That  is  all.     Your  Christian  dead  did  not  go 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


487 


down  into  the  dust,  and  the  gravel,  and  the  mud.  Though  it  rained  all  that 
funeral  day,  and  the  water  came  up  to  the  wheel's  hub  as  you  drove  out  to  the 
cemetery,  it  made  no  difference  to  them,  for  they  stepped  from  the  home  here  to 
the  home  there,  right  into  the  ivory  palaces.  All  is  well  with  them.  All 
is  well. 

While  writing  this  discourse  as  I  got  to  about  this  point,  there  was  a 
knock  at  my  door,  and  I  received  a  telegram  from  a  very  dear  ministerial 
friend.  It  read:  "My  wife  just  died.  Funeral  next  Sunday.  Will  you  be  one 
of  the  pall  bearers  ?"  I  telegraphed  immediately :  "  I  will."  Who  could  hold 
back  at  such  a  time  ?  I  knew  I  could  carry  my  part  of  the  burden.  It  is  not 
a  dead  weight  that  you  lift  when  you  carry  a  Christian  out.  Jesus  makes  the 
bed  up  soft  with  velvet  promises,  and  he  says :  "  Put  her  down  there  very 
gently.  Put  that  head,  which  will  never  ache  again,  on  this  pillow  of  hallelu- 
jahs. Send  up  word  that  the  procession  is  coming.  Ring  the  bells.  Ring! 
Open  your  gates,  ye  ivory  palaces  !"  And  so  your. loved  ones  are  there.  They 
are  just  as  certainly  there,  having  died  in  Christ,  as  that  you  are  here.  There 
is  only  one  thing  more  they  want.  Indeed,  there  is  one  thing  in  heaven  they 
have  not  got.     They  want  it     What  is  it?     Your  company. 


Secret  ^ortfttes. 


Solomon's  gossipy  household  and  the  good  and 
EVIL  of  secret  organizations. 

"HAT  is  the  moral  effect  of  Free  Masonry,  Odd  Fellow- 
ship,  Knights   of   Labor,  Greek    Alphabet,  and    other 
societies?     "Discover  not   a   secret   to   another,"  says 
Solomon,  and   he   had   good    reasons   for  laying  such 
an    injunction,    for    in    his    time,    as    in    all    subsequent 
periods    of   the   world,    there    were    people    too    much   dis- 
posed  to   tell   all    they    knew.     It    was   blab,   blab,  blab; 
physicians    revealing    the    case    of  their  patients,   lawyers 
exposing    the    private    affairs    of    their    clients,    neighbors 
advertising    the    faults    of   the    next-door    residents,    pretended 
friends    betraying    confidences.       One-half    of    the    trouble    of 
every  community  comes   from    the    fact    that    so    many  people 
have  not  capacity  to  keep  their  mouths   shut.     When    I    hear 
something  disparaging  of  you  my  first  duty  is  not  to  tell  you. 
But  if  I  tell    you  what    somebody  has    said    against    you,  and 
then    go    out    and    tell    everybody  else  what    I    told    you,  and 
they  go  out  and  tell  others  what  I  told  them  that  I  told  you, 
and  we  all    go    out,  some    to    hunt    up    the    originator    of  the 
story  and    others    to    hunt    it    down,  we    shall    get    the  whole 
community  talking  about  what   you   did  do  and  what  you  did 
not  do,  and    there  will  be  as  many  scalps  taken  as  though    a 
band  of  Modocs  had  swept  upon  a  helpless  village. 

We  have  two  ears  but  only  one  tongue,  a  physiological  suggestion  that 
we  ought  to  hear  a  good  deal  more  than  we  tell.  Let  us  join  a  conspiracy 
that  we  will  tell  each  other  all  the  good  and  nothing  of  the  ill,  and  then 
there  will  not  be  such  awful  need  of  sermons  on  Solomon's  words :  "  Discover 
not  a  secret  to  another." 

gossip  in  Solomon's  household. 

Solomon  had  a  very  large  domestic  circle.  In  his  earlier  days  he  had 
very  confused  notions  about  monogamy  and  polygamy,  and  his  multitudinous 
associates  in  the  matrimonial  state  kept  him  too  well  informed  as  to  what  was 
going  on  in  Jerusalem.  They  gathered  up  all  the  privacies  of  the  city  and 
poured  them  into  his  ear,  and  his  family  became  a  sorosis  or  female  debating 
society  of  700.  discussing   day  after  day  all   the   difficulties   between   husbands 

(488) 


(489) 


490  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

and  wives,  between  employers  and  employes,  between  rulers  and  subjects, 
until  Solomon  deplores  volubility  about  affairs  that  do  not  belong  to  us  and 
extols  the  virtue  of  secretiveness. 

By  the  power  of  a  secret  divulged,  families,  churches,  neighborhoods, 
nations  fly  apart.  By  the  power  of  a  secret  kept,  great  charities,  socialities, 
reformatory  movements  and  Christian  enterprises  may  be  advanced.  Men  are 
gregarious — cattle  in  herds,  fish  in  schools,  birds  in  flocks,  men  in  social 
circles.  You  may,  by  the  discharge  of  a  gun,  scatter  a  flock  of  quails,  or  by 
the  plunge  of  the  anchor  send  apart  the  denizens  of  the  sea,  but  they  will 
gather  themselves  together  again.  If  you,  by  some  new  power,  could  break 
the  associations  in  which  men  now  stand,  they  would  again  adhere.  God 
meant  it  so.  He  has  gathered  all  the  flowers  and  shrubs  into  associations. 
You  may  plant  one  forget-me-not  or  heart's-ease  alone,  away  off  upon  the  hill- 
side, but  it  will  soon  hunt  up  some  other  forget-me-not  or  heart's-ease.  Plants 
love  company.  You  will  find  them  talking  to  each  other  in  the  dew.  A 
galaxy  of  stars  is  only  a  mutual  life  insurance  company. 

You  sometimes  see  a  man  with  no  outbranchings  of  sympathy.  His  nature 
is  cold  and  hard  like  a  ship's  mast  ice-glazed,  which  the  most  agile  sailor 
could  never  climb.  Others  have  a  thousand  roots  and  a  thousand  branches. 
Innumerable  tendrils  climb  their  hearts,  and  blossom  all  the  way  up,  and  the 
fowls  of  heaven  sing  in  the  branches.  In  consequeuce  of  this  tendency,  we 
find  men  coming  together  in  tribes,  in  communities,  in  churches,  in  societies. 
Some  gather  together  to  cultivate  the  arts,  some  to  plan  for  the  welfare  of  the 
State,  some  to  discuss  religious  themes,  some  to  kindle  their  mirth,  some  to 
advance  their  crafts.  So  'every  active  community  is  divided  into  associations 
of  artists,  of  merchants,  of  book-binders,  of  carpenters,  of  masons,  of  plasterers, 
of  shipwrights,  of  plumbers.  Do  you  cry  out  against  it?  Then  you  cry  out 
against  a  tendency  divinely  implanted.  Your  tirades  would  accomplish  no 
more  than  if  you  should  preach  to  a  busy  ant-hill  or  bee-hive  a  long  sermon 
against  secret  societies. 

Here  we  find  the  oft-discussed  question  whether  associations  that  do  their 
work  with  closed  doors,  and  admit  their  members  by  pass-words,  and  greet 
each  other  with  a  secret  grip,  are  right  or  wrong.  I  answer  that  it  depends 
entirely  on  the  nature  of  the  object  for  which  they  meet.  Is  it  to  pass  the 
hours  in  revelry,  wassail,  blasphemy  and  obscene  talk,  or  to  plot  trouble  to 
the  State,  or  to  debauch  the  innocent,  then  I  say,  with  an  emphasis  that  no 
man  can  mistake,  No !  But  is  the  object  the  defense  of  the  rights  of  any 
class  against  oppression,  the  improvement  of  the  mind,  the  enlargement  of  the 
heart,  the  advancement  of  art,  the  defense  of  the  Government,  the  extirpation 
of  crime  or  the  kindling  of  a  pure-hearted  sociality,  then  I  say,  with  just  as 
much  emphasis,  Yes ! 

There  is  no  need  that  we  who  plan  for  the  conquest  of  righ  over  wrong 
should    publish   to    all    the    world    our    intentions.     The  general    of   any  army 


(49i; 


492  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

never  sends  to  the  opposing  troops  information  of  the  coming  attack.  Shall 
we  who  have  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  God  and  humanity  expose  our  plans  to 
the  enemy  ?  No !  we  will  in  secret  plot  the  ruin  of  all  the  enterprises  of 
Satan  and  his  cohorts.  When  they  expect  us  by  day  we  will  fall  upon  them  by 
night.  While  they  are  strengthening  their  left  wing  we  will  double  up  their 
right.  By  a  plan  of  battle  formed  in  secret  conclave  we  will  come  suddenly 
upon  them,  crying  :  "  The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon."  The  victory  would 
have  been  gained  long  ago  if  all  professed  soldiers  of  Christ  had  done  their 
duty,  but  many  in  the  ranks  are  like  the  Christian  who  sings  loudest,  with 
book  before  his  eyes  while  the  collection  is  being  taken  up.  Their  eyes  are 
engrossed  with  the  secrecy  of  their  selfishness. 

Secrecy  of  plot    and    execution    are  wrong  only  when  the    object  and  ends 
are  nefarious.     Every  family  is  a  secret  society,  every  business  firm  and  every 
banking  and  insurance    institution.     Those  men  who  have  no  capacity  to  keep 
a  secret  are  unfit  for  positions  of  trust  anywhere.     There  are  thousands  of  men 
whose  vital  need  is    culturing  a  capacity  to  keep  a  secret.     Men  talk  too  much, 
and  women  too.     There  is  a  time  to  keep  silence  as  well  as   a  time  to  speak. 
Although  not    belonging  to    any  of  the    great  secret    societies  about  which 
here  has  been    so    much  violent    discussion,  I    have    only  words    of  praise    for 
dose  associations  which  have  for  their  object  the  maintenance  of  right  against 
,/rong,  or    the    reclamation    of   inebriates,    or    like  the    score    of  mutual  benefit 
societies  called  by  different  names,  that  provide  temporary  relief  for  widows  and 
orphans  and  for  men  incapacitated  by  sickness  or  accident  from  earning  a  live- 
lihood.    Had  it  not  been  for  the  large  number  of  secret  labor  organizations  in 
this    country,    monopoly    would    long    ago    have,    under    its    ponderous    wheels, 
ground  the  laboring  classes  into  an  intolerable  servitude. 

RESISTANCE    TO    MONOPOLY. 

The  men  who  want  the  whole  earth  to  themselves  would  have  got  it  before 
this  had  it    not  been    for  the    banding    together   of  great    secret    organizations. 
And,  while  we  deplore  many  things  that  have  been  done  by  them,  their  exist- 
ence   is    a    necessity,  and  their    legitimate  sphere    distinctly  pointed  out  by  the 
providence  of   God.      Such  organizations    are  trying  to  dismiss  from  their  asso- 
ciation all  members  in  favor  of  anarchy  and  social  chaos.     They  will  gradually 
ease  anything    like  tyranny  over  their  members,  and  will  forbid  violent  inter- 
erence  with  any  man's  work,  whether  he  belongs  to  their    union  or  is  outside 
_jf  it,  and  will  declare  their  disgust  with  any  such  rule  as  that  passed  in  Eng- 
land by  the    Manchester    Bricklayers'  Association,  which    says    any  man    found 
running  or  working    beyond    a    regular    speed    shall  be    fined    two    shilling  six 
pence  for   the    first    offense,  five  shillings  for  the    second,  ten    shillings  for  the 
third,  and  if  still  persisting,  shall  be  dealt  with  as  the  committee  think  proper. 
There  are    secret    societies    in  our  colleges  that    have    letters  of   the  Greek 
alphabet   for   their  nomenclature,  and   their  members  are   at   the  very  front   in 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  493 

scholarship  and  irreproachable  in  morals,  while  there  are  others  the  scene  of 
carousal,  and  they  gamble,  and  they  drink,  and  they  graduate  knowing  a 
hundred  times  more  about  sin  than  they  do  of  geometry  and  Sophocles. 

In  other  words,  secret  societies,  like  individuals,  are  good  or  bad,  are  the 
means  of  moral  health  or  of  temporal  and  eternal  damnation.  All  good  people 
recognize  the  vice  of  slandering  an  individual,  but  many  do  not  see  the  sin  of 
slandering  an  organization.  It  was  a  disposition  to  slander  and  intrigue  against 
the  government  that  led  Mary,  Queen  of  Scotts,  to  the  scaffold,  and  if  all  who 
have  been  equally  as  guilty  had  been  as  severely  punished  the  roll  of  victims 
would  have  been  immensely  large. 

But  secret  societies  have  done  incalculable  good.  One  of  these  gave  for  the 
relief  of  the  sick  in  1873,  in  this  country,  $1,490,274.  Some  of  these  societies 
have  poured  a  very  heaven  of  sunshine  and  benediction  into  the  home  of 
suffering.  Several  of  them  are  founded  on  fidelity  to  good  citizenship  and  the 
Bible.  I  have  never  taken  one  of  their  degrees.  They  might  give  me  the  grip 
a  thousand  times,  and  I  would  not  recognize  it.  I  am  ignorant  of  their  pass- 
words, and  I  must  judge  entirely  from  the  outside.  But  Christ  has  given  us 
a  rule  by  which  we  may  judge  not  only  all  individuals,  but  all  societies,  secret 
and  open.     "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 

Bad  societies  make  bad  men.  Good  societies  make  good  men.  A  bad  man 
will  not  stay  in  a  good  society.  A  good  man  will  not  stay  in  a  bad  society. 
Then  try  all  secret  societies  by  two  or  three  rules. 

Test  the  first !  Their  influence  on  home,  if  you  have  a  home.  That  wife 
soon  loses  her  influence  over  her  hvisband  who  nervously  and  foolishly  looks 
upon  all  evening  absence  as  an  assault  on  domesticity.  How  are  the  great 
enterprises  of  reform,  and  art,  and  literature,  and  beneficence  and  public  weal 
to  be  carried  on  if  every  man  is  to  have  his  world  bounded  on  one  side  by  his 
front  doorstep,  and  on  the  other  side  by  his  back  window,  knowing  nothing 
higher  than  his  own  attic  or  lower  than  his  own  cellar?  That  wife  who 
becomes  jealous  of  her  husband's  attention  to  art,  or  literature,  or  religion,  or 
charity  is  breaking  her  own  sceptre  of  conjugal  power. 

But  let  no  man  sacrifice  home  life  to  secret  society  life,  as  many  do.  I 
can  point  out  to  you  a  great  many  names  of  men  who  are  guilty  of  this 
sacrilege.  They  are  as  genial  as  angels  at  the  society  room,  and  as  ugly  as 
sin  at  home.  They  are  generous  on  all  subjects  of  wine  suppers,  yachts  and 
fast  horses,  but  they  are  stingy  about  the  wives'  dresses  and  the  children's 
shoes.  That  man  has  made  that  which  might  be  a  healthful  influence  a  usurper 
of  his  affections,  and  he  has  married  it,  and  he  is  guilty  of  moral  bigamy. 
Under  this  process,  the  wife,  whatever  her  features,  becomes  uninteresting  and 
homely.  He  becomes  critical  of  her,  does  not  like  the  dress,  does  not  like  the 
way  she  arranges  her  hair,  is  amazed  that  he  ever  was  so  unromantic  as  to 
offer  her  hand  and  heart. 


(494) 


AN   0I,D-FASHIONED    HOME. 


THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  495 

SACRIFICING   THE   HOME. 

There  are  secret  societies  where  membership  always  involves  domestic  ship- 
wreck. Tell  me  that  a  man  has  joined  a  certain  kind,  and  tell  me  nothing 
more  about  him  for  ten  years,  and  I  will  write  his  history  if  he  be  still  alive. 
The  man  is  a  wine-guzzler,  his  wife  broken-hearted  or  prematurely  old,  his 
fortune  gone  or  reduced,  and  his  home  a  mere  name  in  the  directory.  Here 
are  six  secular  nights  in  the  week. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  them?"  Says  the  father  and  the  husband:  "I 
will  give  four  of  these  nights  to  the  improvement  and  entertainment  of  my 
family,  either  at  home  or  in  good  neighborhood.  I  will  devote  one  to  charita- 
ble institutions.     I  will  devote  one  to  my  lodge." 

I  congratulate  you.  Here  is  a  man  who  says  :  "  Out  of  the  six  secular 
nights  of  the  week  I  will  devote  five  to  lodges  and  clubs  and  associations  and 
one  to  the  home,  which  night  I  will  spend  in  scowling  like  a  March  squall, 
wishing  I  was  out  spending  it  as  I  have  spent  the  other  five." 

That  man's  obituary  is  written.  Not  one  out  of  10,000  that  ever  gets  so 
far  on  the  wrong  road  ever  stops.  Gradually  his  health  will  fail  through  late 
hours,  and  through  too  much  stimulants  he  will  be  first-rate  prey  for  erysipelas 
and  rheumatism  of  the  heart.  The  doctor  coming  in  will  at  a  glance  see  it  is 
not  only  present  disease  he  must  fight,  but  years  of  fast  living..  The  clergy- 
man, for  the  sake  of  the  feelings  of  the  family,  on  the  funeral  day  will  talk 
in  religious  generalities.  The  men  who  got  his  yacht  in  the  eternal  rapids 
will  not  be  at  the  obsequies.  They  have  pressing  engagements  that  day.  They 
will  send  flowers  to  the  coffin,  will  send  their  wives  to  utter  words  of  sympa- 
thy, but  they  will  have  engagements  elsewhere.  They  never  come.  Bring  me 
mallet  and  chisel,  and  I  will  cut  on  the  tombstone  that  man's  epitaph  :  "  Blessed 
are  the  dead  who  died  in  the  Lord." 

"  No,"  you  say,  "  that  would  not  be  appropriate." 

"  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his." 

"  No,"  you  say,  "  that  would  not  be  appropriate." 

Then  give  me  the  mallet  and  the  chisel,  and  I  will  cut  an  honest  epitaph: 
"  Here  lies  the  victim  of  dissipating  associations !  " 

RUINED   BY    SOCIAL   EXCESS. 

You  and  I  every  day  know  of  commercial  establishments  going  to  ruin 
through  the  social  excess  of  one  or  two  members,  their  fortune  beaten  to  death 
with  ball  players'  bat,  or  cut  amidship  with  the  prow  of  the  regatta,  or  going 
down  under  the  swift  hoofs  of  the  fast  horses,  or  drowned  in  the  large  pota- 
tions of  cognac  or  Monongahela.  That  secret  society  was  the  Loch  Earn. 
Their  business  was  the  Ville  de  Havre.  They  struck,  and  the  Ville  de  Havre 
went  under. 

The  third  test  by  which  you  may  know  whether  the  society  to  which  you 
belong  is  good  or  bad   is  this :  What   is  its  effect  on  your  sense  of  moral  and 


(496) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  497 

religious  obligation  ?  Now,  if  I  should  take  a  thousand  name's  in  our  city 
and  put  them  on  a  roll,  and  then  I  should  lay  that  roll  in  a  drawer,  and  a 
hundred  years  from  now  some  one  should  take  that  roll  and  call  it  from  A  to 
Z,  there  would  not  one  of  them  answer.  I  say  that  any  society  that  makes 
me  forget  that  fact  is  bad  society.  When  I  go  to  Chicago  I  am  sometimes 
perplexed  at  Buffalo,  as  I  suppose  many  travellers  are,  as  to  whether  it  is  better 
to  take  the  Lake  Shore  route  or  the  Michigan  Central,  equally  expeditious 
and  equally  safe,  getting  to  their  destination  at  the  same  time.  But  suppose 
that  I  hear  that  on  one  route  the  track  is  torn  up,  the  bridges  are  down  and 
the  switches  are  unlocked,  it  will  not  take  me  a  great  while  to  decide  which 
road  to  take. 

Now,  here  are  two  roads  in  the  future — the  Christian  and  the  unchristian, 
the  safe  and  the  unsafe.  Any  institution  or  any  association  that  confuses  my 
ideas  in  regard  to  that  fact  is  a  bad  institution  and  a  bad  association.  I  had 
prayers  before  I  joined  that  society;  did  I  have  them  afterward?  I  attended 
the  house  of  God  before  I  connected  myself  with  that  union  ;  do  I  absent 
myself  from  religious  influences  ?  Which  would  you  rather  have  in  your 
hand  when  you  come  to  die — a  pack  of  cards  or  a  Bible  ?  Which  would  you 
rather  have  pressed  to  your  lips  in  the  closing  moment — the  cup  of  Belshaz- 
zarean  wassail  or  the  chalice  of  Christian  communion  ?  Who  would  you  rather 
have  for  your  pall-bearers — the  elders  of  a  Christian  church  or  the  companions 
whose  conversation  was  full  of  slang  and  innuendo  ?  Who  would  you  rather 
have  for  your  eternal  companions — those  men  who  spend  their  evenings  bet- 
ting, gambling,  swearing,  carousing  and  telling  vile  stories,  or  your  little 
child,  that  bright  girl  whom  the  Lord  took?  Oh,  you  would  not  have  been 
away  so  much  nights,  would  you,  if  you  had  known  she  was  going  away  so 
soon  ?  Dear  me,  your  house  has  never  been  the  same  place  since.  Your  wife 
has  never  brightened  up,  she  has  never  got  over  it.  She  never  will  get  over 
it.  How  long  the  evenings  are  with  no  one  to  put  to  bed  and  no  one  to  whom 
to  tell  the  beautiful  Bible  stories. 

A    ROPE    THAT    REACHES    HEAVEN. 

What  a  pity  it  is  that  you  cannot  spend  more  evenings  at  home  in  trying 
to  help  her  bear  that  sorrow.  You  can  never  drown  that  grief  in  the  wine  cup. 
You  can  never  break  away  from  the  little  arms  that  used  to  be  flung  around 
your  neck  when  she  used  to  say :  "  Papa,  do  stay  with  me  to-night.  Do  stay 
with  me  to-night." 

You  will  never  be  able  to  wipe  away  from  your  lips  the  dying  kiss  of 
your  little  girl.  The  fascination  of  a  bad  secret  society  is  so  great  that  some- 
times a  man  has  turned  his  back  on  his  home  when  his  child  was  dying  of 
scarlet  fever.  He  went  away.  Before  he  got  back  at  midnight  the  eyes  had 
been  closed,  the  undertaker  had  done  his  work,  and  the  wife,  worn  out  with 
three  weeks'  watching,  lay  unconscious  in  the  next  room.  Then  the  returned 
32 


49« 


THE    PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


father  comes  up-stairs,  and  he  sees  the  cradle  gone  and  the  windows  up,  and 
says  :    "  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

On  the  judgment  day  he  will  find  out  what  was  the  matter. 

Oh,  man  astray,  God  help  you !  I  am  going  to  make  a  very  stout  rope. 
You  know  that  sometimes  a  rope-maker  will  take  very  small  threads  and  wind 
them  together  until  after  a  while  they  become  a  ship  cable.  And  I  am  going  to 
take  some  very  small,  delicate  threads  and  wind  them  together  until  they  make 
a  very  stout  rope.  I  will  take  all  the  memories  of  the  marriage  day — a  thread 
of  laughter,  a  thread  of  light,  a  thread  of  music,  a  thread  of  banqueting,  a 
thread  of  congratulation,  and  I  twist  them  together  and  I  have  one  strand. 
Then  I  take  a  thread  of  the  hour  of  the  first  advent  in  your  house,  a  thread 
of  the  darkness  that  preceded,  and  a  thread  of  the  light  that  followed,  and  a 
thread  of  the  beautiful  scarf  that  little  child  used  to  wear  when  she  bounded 
out  at  eventide  to  greet  you,  and  then  a  thread  of  the  beautiful  dress  in  which 
you  laid  her  away  for  the  resurrection  ;  and  then  I  twist  all  these  threads 
together,  and  I  have  another  strand.  Then  I  take  a  thread  of  the  scarlet  robe 
of  a  suffering  Christ,  and  a  thread  of  the  white  raiment  of  your  loved  ones 
before  the  throne,  and  a  string  of  the  harp  seraphic,  and  I  twist  them  all 
together,  and  I  have  a  third  strand. 

"  Oh,"  you  say,  either  strand  is  enough  to  hold  fast  a  world !  " 

No  ;  I  will  take  these  strands  and  I  will  twist  them  together,  and  one  end 
of  that  rope  I  will  fasten,  not  to  the  communion  table,  for  it  shall  be  removed ; 
not  to  a  pillar  of  the  organ,  for  that  will  crumble  in  the  ages  ;  but  I  wind  it 
round  and  round  the  cross  of  a  sympathizing  Christ,  and,  having  fastened  one 
end  of  the  rope  to  the  cross,  I  throw  the  other  end  to  you.  Lay  hold  of  it ! 
Pull  for  your  life !     Pull  for  heaven. 


&  &tam  on  tfjr  iSsrutrf)ron. 


THE      NATIONAL     HONOR      BROUGHT 

MORMONISM. 


INTO     DISGRACE     BY 


the  world  there  have  been  hundreds  of  political  parties. 
They  did  their  work.  They  lost  their  prestige.  They 
expired.  Their  names  are  forgotten.  Enough  for  me 
to  declare  what  I  believe  God  and  civilization  demand 
of  the  two  political  parties  of  this  day,  or  their  extermi- 
nation. God  and  civilization  demand  of  the  political 
parties  of  this  day  a  plank  anti-Mormonistic.  It  is 
high  time  that  the  nation  stopped  playing  with  this 
cancer.  All  the  plasters  of  political  quacks  only  aggra- 
vate it,  and  nothing  but  the  surgery  of  the  sword  will 
cure  it.  All  the  congressional  laws  on  this  subject 
have  been  notorious  failures.  Meanwhile  the  great 
monster  sits  between  the  two  mountains — the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevadas — sits  in  defiance  and 
mockery,  sometimes  holding  its  sides  with  uncontroll- 
able mirth  at  our  national  impotency.  Shipload  after 
shipload  of  Mormons  are  regurgitated  at  your  Castle 
Garden,  and  hundreds  and  thousands  of  them  are  being 
sent  on  to  the  great  moral  lazaretto  of  the  West.  Others 
are  on  the  way,  and  the  Atlantic  is  heaving  toward 
us  the  great  surges  of  foreign  libertinism.  This 
moment  the  emissaries  of  that  organized  lust  are  busy  in  Norway,  and  Swe- 
den, and  England,  and  Ireland,  and  Scotland,  and  Germany,  breaking  up 
homes,  and  with  infernal  cords  drawing  the  population  this  way,  a  population 
which  will  be  dumped  as  carrion  on  the  American  territories.  American  crime, 
with  its  long  rake  stretched  across  other  continents,  is  heaping  up  on  this 
land  great  windrows  of  abomination.  Worse  and  worse.  Four  hundred  Mor- 
mons coming  into  our  port  in  one  day,  600  in  another  day,  800  in  another  day. 

THE   DEMAND  OF   THE   AGE. 

Are  we  so  cowardly  and  selfish  in  this  generation  that  we  are  going  to 
bequeath  to  the  following  generations  this  great  evil  ?  Letting  it  go  on  until 
our  children  come  to  the  front  and  we  are  safely  entrenched  under  the  mound 
of  our  own  sepulchres,  leaving  our  children  through  all  their  active  life  to 
wonder  why  we  postponed  this  evil  for  their  extirpation  when  we  might  have 
•destroyed  it  with  a  hundred-fold  less  exposure.     What  a  legacy  for  this  genera- 

(499) 


5°° 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


tion  to  leave  the  following  generation !  A  vast  acreage  of  sweltering  putrefac- 
tion, of  lowest  beastliness,  of  suffocating  stench,  all  the  time  becoming  more 
and  more  malodorous,  and  rotten,  and  damnable.  We  want  some  great  politi- 
cal party,  in  some  strong  and  unmistakable  plank,  to  declare  that  it  will  extir- 
pate heroically  and  immediately  this  great  harem  of  the  American  continent. 
We  want  some  President  of  the  United  States  to  come  in  on  such  an  anti- 
Mormouistic  platform,  and  in  his  opening  message  to  Congress  ask  for  an 
appropriation  for  military  expedition,  and  then  put  such  a  man  as  was  Phil 
Sheridan  in  his   lightning   stirrups,    heading    his    horse    westward,  and  in  one 


A    MORMON'S   WIPE   CAST   OUT. 


year  Mormonism  will  be  extirpated  and  national  decency  vindicated.  Compelling 
Mormonistic  chiefs  to  take  oath  of  allegiance  will  not  do  it,  for  they  have 
declared  in  open  assembly  that  perjury  in  their  cause  is  commendable.  Relig- 
ious tracts  on  purity  amount  to  nothing.  They  will  not  read  them.  Anything 
shorter  than  bayonets  and  anything  softer  than  bullets  will  never  do  that  work. 
Every  day  you  open  a  paper  and  you  see  in  the  State  of  New  York  some 
bigamist  arrested  and  punished.  What  you  prohibit  on  a  small  scale  for  a 
state  you  allow  on  a  large  scale  for  a  nation.  Bigamy  must  be  put  down. 
Polygamy    must    go    free.     What    has   been    the    effect,    my   readers  ?      It    has 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE.  501 

demoralized  this  whole  nation.  That  carbuncle  on  the  back  of  the  nation  has 
sickened  all  the  nerves,  and  muscles,  and  arteries,  and  veins,  and  limbs  of  the 
body  politic.  I  account  in  that  way  for  many  of  the  loose  ideas  abroad  on 
all  sides  on  the  subject  of  the  marriage  relation.  Divorce  by  the  wholesale. 
Concubinage  in  high  circles.  Libertinism,  if  gloved  and  patent-leathered, 
admitted  into  high  circles.  , 

INDUCING   A    LAXITY   IN   THE   MARITAL   RELATION. 

The  malaria  of  Salt  Lake  City  has  smitten  the  nation  with  moral  typhoid. 
The  bad  influence  has  well-nigh  spiked  that  gun  of  Sinai  which  needs  to 
thunder  over  the  New  England  hills,  over  the  savannas  of  the  South,  and  over 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevadas  clear  to  the  Pacific  coast,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  commit  adultery ! "  Advertisements  in  newspapers  saying,  "  Divorce 
legally  and  quietly  effected.  Can  pay  in  instalments!"  Some  of  the  New 
York  lawyers  giving  their  entire  time  to  domestic  separations — suborning  wit- 
nesses, giving  advice  as  to  how  many  months  it  is  necessary  to  be  out  of  the 
city,  inducing  suspicious  complications,  sending  detective  sleuth-hounds  on  the 
track  of  good  citizens,  until  the  honest  lawyers  of  these  cities  were  compelled 
a  little  while  ago  to  make  outcry  against  the  bemeaning  of  their  honorable 
profession.  Looser  and  looser  ideas  on  the  subject  of  marriage,  until  some- 
times the  question  of  divorce  is  taken  into  consideration  in  the  wedding 
solemnities,  and  people  promise  fidelity  till  death  do  them  part,  and  say  after- 
ward softly,  "  perhaps,"  "  may  be,"  "  I  rather  think  so."  All  over  this  land 
more  and  more  marriages  in  fun. 

We  do  not  want  divorce  made  more  easy  in  this  country ;  we  want  it 
made  more  hard,  so  that  people  will  be  more  cautious  in  their  affiancing,  and 
you  will  understand  that  if  you  marry  a  brute  of  a  husband  or  a  fool  of  a 
wife,  you  will  have  to  stand  it.  Ah!  my  readers,  there  will  be  no  toning  up 
on  this  subject,  there  will  be  no  moral  health  in  the  United  States  on  the 
subject  of  the  marriage  relation  until  this  nation  shall  slough  off  this  Mor- 
monistic  ulcer,  and  burn  out  with  caustic  of  gunpowder  this  wound  which 
has  been  so  long  feculent  and  ichorous  and  deathful.  If  you  are  under  the 
delusion  that  by  mild  laws  passed  against  Mormonism  the  evil  will  be  extir- 
pated, you  are  making  an  awful  mistake.  The  sooner  you  get  over  it  the 
better.  God  and  civilization  demand  of  both  political  parties  now  a  plank 
anti-Mormonistic. 

Again,  there  is  demanded  of  the  political  parties  in  this  day,  a  plank  of 
intelligent  helpfulness  for  the  great  foreign  populations  which  have  come  among 
us.  It  is  too  late  now  to  discuss  whether  we  had  better  let  them  come. 
They  are  here.  They  are  coming  this  moment  through  the  Narrows,  they  are 
coming  this  moment  through  the  gates  of  Castle  Garden,  they  are  this  moment 
taking  the  first  full  inhalation  of  the  free  air  of  America,  and  they  will  con- 
tinue to  come  as  long  as  this  country  is  the  best  place  to  live  in.      You  might 


(502) 


THE  EMIGRANTS. 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  503 

as  well  pass  a  law  prohibiting  summer  bees  from  alighting  on  a  field  of  blos- 
soming buckwheat,  you  might  as  well  prohibit  the  stags  of  the  mountains 
from  coming  down  to  the  deer  lick,  as  to  prohibit  the  hunger-bitten  nations 
of  Europe  from  coming  to  this  land  of  bread ;  as  to  prohibit  the  people  of 
England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Germany,  working  them- 
selves to  death  on  small  wages  on  the  other  side  the  sea,  from  coming  to  this 
land,  where  there  are  the  largest  compensations  under  the  sun.  Why  did  God 
spread  out  the  prairies  of  Dakota,  and  roll  the  precious  ore  into  Colorado  ?  It 
was  that  all  the  earth  might  come  and  plow,  and  come  and  dig.  Just  as  long 
as  the  centrifugal  force  of  foreign  despotisms  throw  them  off,  just  so  long  will 
the  centripetal  force  of  American  institutions  draw  them    here. 

INTERMARRIAGE    OF    NATIONALITIES. 

And  that  is  what  is  going  to  make  this  the  mightiest  nation  of  the  earth. 
Intermarriage  of  nationalities.  Not  circle  intermarrying  circle,  and  nation 
intermarrying  nation,  but  is  going  to  be  Italian  and  Norwegian,  Russian  and 
Celt,  Scotch  and  French,  English  and  American.  The  American  of  a  hundred 
years  from  now  is  to  be  different  from  the  American  of  to-day.  German  brain, 
Irish  wit,  French  civility,  Scotch  firmness,  English  loyalty,  Italian  aesthetics 
packed  into  one  man,  and  he  an  American.  It  is  this  intermarriage  of  nation- 
alities that  is  going  to  make  the  American  race  the  mightiest  race  of  the  ages. 
Now,  I  say,  in  God's  name  let  them  come. 

But  what  are  we  doing  for  the  moral  and  intellectual  culture  of  the  half 
million  of  foreigners  who  came  in  one  year,  and  the  six  hundred  thousand 
who  came  in  another  year,  and  the  eigbt  hundred  thousand  who  came  in 
another  year,  and  the  million  who  came  into  our  various  American  ports. 
What  are  we  doing  for  them  ?  Well,  we  are  doing  a  great  deal  for  them. 
We  steal  their  baggage  as  soon  as  they  get  ashore !  We  send  them  up  to  a 
boarding-house  where  the  least  they  lose  is  their  money.  We  swindle  them 
within  ten  minutes  after  they  get  ashore.  We  are  doing  a  great  deal  for 
them !  But  what  are  we  doing  to  introduce  them  into  the  duties  of  good 
citizenship  ?  Many  of  them  never  saw  a  ballot-box,  many  of  them  never  heard 
of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  many  of  them  have  no  acquaintance 
with  our  laws.  Now,  I  say,  let  the  Government  of  the  United  States,  so  com- 
manded by  some  political  party,  give  to  every  immigrant  who  lands  here  a 
volume  in  good  type  and  well  bound  for  long  usage — a  volume  containing  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  a 
chapter  on  the  spirit  of  our  Government.  Let  there  be  such  a  book  on  every 
shelf  of  every  free  library  in  America.  While  the  American  Bible  Society  puts 
into  the  right  hand  of  every  immigrant  a  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  let  the 
Government  of  the  United  States,  so  commanded  by  some  political  party,  put 
into  the  left  hand  of  every  immigrant  a  volume  instructing  him  in  the  duties 
of  good  citizenship.     There  are  thousands    of  foreigners  in  this  land  who  need 


5°4 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


' 


to  learn  that  the  ballot-box  is  not  a  footstool,  but  a  throne ;    not  something  to 

put  your  foot  on,  but  something  to  bow  before. 

Again,  it  is  demanded  of  the  political  parties  of  this  day  that  they  have  a 

plank  that  shall  ac- 
knowledge God.  Let 
there  be  no  favoring  of 
sects.  Let  Trinitarian 
and  Unitarian,  Jew  and 
Gentile,  Protestant  and 
Roman  Catholic,  be  alike 
in  the  sight  of  the  law — 
every  man  free  to  wor- 
ship in  his  own  way — 
but  let  no  political  party 
think  it  can  do  its  duty, 
unless  it  acknowledges 
that  God,  who  built  this 
continent,  and  revealed 
it  at  the  right  time  to 
the  discoverer,  and  who 
has  established  a  pros- 
perity which  has  been 
given  to  no  other  people. 
"Oh,"  says  some  one, 
"  There  are  people  in 
this  country  who  do  not 
believe  in  God,  and  it 
would  be  an  insult  to 
them."  Well,  there  are 
people  in  this  country 
who  do  not  believe  in 
common  decency,  or  com- 
mon honesty,  or  any 
kind  of  government,  pre- 
ferring anarchy.  Your 
every  platform  is  an  in- 
sult to  them.  You  ought 
not  to  regard  a  man  who 
does'  not  believe  in  God 


THE  swine  herd.— From  the  Painting  by  W.  E.  Lockhart. 


any  more  than  you  should  regard  a  man  who  refuses  to  believe  in  common 
decency.  God  is  the  only  source  of  good  government.  Why  not,  then,  say  so, 
a:id  let  the  chairman  of  the  committee  on  resolutions  in  your  national  conven- 
tion take  a  pen  full  of  ink,  and  with  bold   hand    head  the  document  with  one 


TRUST  IN  GOD. 


(505) 


5c6  THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

significant.  "Whereas,"  acknowledging  the  goodness  of  God  in  the  past,  and 
begging  His  kindness  and  protection  for  the  future. 

For  the  lack  of  recognition  of  God  in  your  political  platforms  they  amount 
to  nothing.  They  both  make  loud  declaration  about  civil  service  reform,  and  it 
has  been  a  failure.  If  you  can  take  now  in  your  cool  moments  the  declaration 
made  by  the  Democratic  party  in  Cincinnati  in  1880,  and  the  declaration  made 
by  the  Republican  party  in  Chicago  in  1880,  and  read  those  two  declarations  on 
the  subject  of  civil  service  reform,  and  then  think  of  what  has  transpired,  and 
control  your  mirth,  you  have  more  self-control  than  I  have.  My  child  asks  me 
what  is  civil  service  reform,  and  I  tell  him,  as  near  as  I  can  understand,  it  is 
that  when  the  Republican  party  get  the  government  of  a  State  they  are  to  turn 
out  the  Democrats,  and  when  the  Democrats  get  the  supremacy  in  the  State 
they  are  to  turn  out  the  Republicans. 

Your  platforms  cry  out  for  reform,  and  promise  reform,  if  they  are  only 
kept  in  power,  or  may  obtain  power.  How  much  do  they  meau  by  reform  ? 
See  what  the  Republican  party  did  in  1876  in  Louisiana  and  what  the  Demo- 
cratic party  did  three  or  four  years  after  in  the  gubernatorial  election  in  Maine! 
Credit  Mobilier  of  eleven  years  ago,  River  and  Harbor  Bill,  by  which  the  tax- 
payers of  the  United  States  were  swindled  out  of  fifty  millions  of  dollars — in 
both  infamies  the  two  parties  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  side  to  side.  What  you 
want  is  more  of  God  in  your  pronunciamentoes.  Without  Him  reform  is  retro- 
gression, and  gain  is  loss,  and  victory  is  defeat. 

LOYALTY    TO    GOD. 

This  country  belongs  to  God,  and  we  ought  in  every  possible  way  to 
acknowledge  it.  From  the  moment  that,  on  an  October  morning,  in  1492, 
Columbus  looked  over  the  side  of  the  ship,  and  saw  the  carved  staff  which 
made  him  think  he  was  near  an  inhabited  country,  and  saw  also  a  thorn  and 
a  cluster  of  berries — type  of  our  history  ever  since,  the  piercing  sorrows  and 
the  cluster  of  national  joys — until  this  hour,  our  country  has  been  bounded  on 
the  north,  and  south,  and  east,  a,nd  west  by  the  goodness  of  God.  The  Huguenots 
took  possession  of  the  Carolinas  in  the  name  of  God ;  William  Penn  settled 
Philadelphia  in  the  name  of  God ;  the  Hollanders  took  possession  of  New  York 
in  the  name  of  God ;  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  settled  New  England  in  the  name 
of  God.  Preceding  the  first  gun  of  Bnnker  Hill,  at  the  voice  of  prayer  all 
heads  uncovered.  In  the  War  of  18 12  an  officer  came  to  General  Jackson  and 
said  :  "  There  is  an  unusual  noise  in  the  camp  ;  it  ought  to  be  stopped."  General 
Jackson  said:  "What  is  the  noise?"  The  officer  said:  "It  is  the  voices  of 
prayer  and  praise."  And  the  General  said :  "  God  forbid  that  prayer  and  praise 
should  be  an  unusual  noise  in  the  encampment;  you  had  better  go  and  join 
them."  Prayer  at  Valley  Forge,  prayer  at  Monmouth,  prayer  at  Atlanta,  prayer 
at  South  Mountain,  prayer  at  Gettysburg. 

"  Oh,"    says  some  infidel,    "  the  Northern  people  prayed    on  one   side,    and 


-.<--  ■■ 


THE  DREAM   OF  JOY. 


(507) 


508  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

the  Southern  people  prayed  on  the  other  side,  and  so  it  didn't  amount  to  any- 
thing." And  I  have  heard  good  Christian  people  confounded  with  the  infidel 
statement,  when  it  is  as  plain  to  me  as  my  right  hand.  Yes,  the  Northern 
people  prayed  in  one  way,  and  the  Southern  people  prayed  in  another  way, 
and  God  answered  in  His  own  way,  giving  to  the  North  the  re-establishment 
of  the  Government,  and  giving  to  the  South  larger  opportunities,  larger  than 
she  had  ever  anticipated,  the  harnessing  of  her  rivers  in  great  manufacturing 
interests,  until  the  Mobile,  and  the  Tallapoosa,  and  the  Chattahooche,  are 
Southern  Merrimacs,  and  the  uncovering  of  great  mines  of  coal  and  iron,  of 
which  the  world  knew  nothing,  and  opening  before  her  opportunities  of  wealth 
which  will  give  ninety-nine  per  cent,  more  of  affluence  than  she  ever  possessed. 
And,  instead  of  the  black  hands  of  American  slaves  emancipated,  there  are  the 
more  industrious  and  black  hands  of  the  coal  and  iron  industries  of  the  South 
which  will  achieve  for  her  fabulous  and  unimagined  wealth. 

And  there  are  domes  of  white  blossoms  where  spread  the  white  tent, 
And  there  are  ploughs  in  the  track  where  the  war  wagon  went, 
And  there  are  songs  where  they  lifted  up  Rachel's  lament. 

Oh,  you  are  a  stupid  man  if  you  do  not  understand  how  God  answered 
Abraham  Lincoln's  prayer  in  the  White  House,  and  Stonewall  Jackson's  prayer 
in  the  saddle,  and  answered  all  the  prayers  of  all  the  cathedrals  on  both  sides 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  Line.    God's  country  all  the  way  past.     God's  country  now. 

A    HAND-CLASP    ROUND    THE    WORLD. 

Put  His  name  in  your  pronunciamentoes,  put  His  name  on  your  ensigns, 
put  His  name  on  your  city  and  State  and  national  enterprises,  put  His  name 
in  your  hearts.  To  most  of  us  this  country  was  the  cradle,  and  to  most  of 
us  it  will  be  the  grave.  We  want  the  same  glorious  privileges  which  we  enjoy 
to  go  down  to  our  children.  We  cannot  sleep  well  the  last  sleep,  nor  will  the 
pillow  of  dust  be  easy  to  our  heads  until  we  are  assured  that  the  God  of  our 
American  institutions  in  the  past,  will  be  the  God  of  our  American  institu- 
tions in  the  days  that  are  to  come.  Oh,  when  all  the  rivers  which  empty  into 
the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  seas  shall  pull  on  factory  bands,  when  all  the  great 
mines  of  gold,  and  silver,  and  iron,  and  coal  shall  be  laid  bare  for  the  nation, 
when  the  last  swamp  shall  be  reclaimed,  and  the  last  jungle  cleared,  and  the 
last  American  desert  Edenized,  and  from  sea  to  sea  the  continent  shall  be  occu- 
pied by  more  than  twelve  hundred  million  souls,  may  it  be  found  that  moral 
and  religious  influences  were  multiplied  in  more  rapid  ratio  than  the  population. 
And  then  there  shall  be  four  doxologies  coming  from  north,  and  south,  and 
east,  and  west — four  doxologies  rolling  toward  each  other  and  meeting  mid-con- 
tinent with  such  dash  of  holy  joy  that  they  shall  mount  to  the  throne. 

And  Heaven's  high  arch  resound  again 
With   "peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men." 


UrgponsfttHtp  of  Eulrrs. 

THE   WRONGS   AND   ABUSES   OF   PUBLIC   TRUSTS. 

ELDOM  do  the  morals  of  a  nation  rise  higher  than  the  virtue 
of    the    rulers.     Henry  VIII.    makes    impurity    popular    and 
national.     William  Wilberforee    gives    moral    tone  to  a  whole 
empire.     Sin  bestarred  and  epauletted  makes  crime  respectable 
and  brings  it  to  canonization.     Malarias  arise  from  the  swamp 
and    float    upward,    but    moral    distempers    descend    from    the 
mountain  to  the  plain.     The  slums  only  disgust  men  with  the 
bestiality  of  crime,  but  dissolute  French  court  or  corrupt  con- 
gressional   delegation  puts  a  premium    upon    iniquity.     Many 
e  sins  of  the  world    are    only  royal    exiles.     They  had  a  throne 
once,  but  they  have  been  turned  out,  and  they  come  down  now  to  be 
entertained  by  the  humble  and  the  insignificant. 

There  is  not  a  land  on  earth  which  has  so  many  moral  men  in 
authority  as  this  land.  There  is  not  a  session  of  Legislature,  or  Con- 
gress, or  Cabinet,  but  in  it  are  thoroughly  Christian  men — men  whose 
hands  would  consume  a  bribe,  whose  cheek  has  never  been  flushed 
with  intoxication,  whose  tongue  has  never  been  smitten  of  blasphemy 
or  stung  of  a  lie  ;*  men  whose  speeches  in  behalf  of  the  right  and 
against  the  wrong  remind  us  of  the  old  Scotch  Covenanters,  and  the 
defiant  challenge  of  Martin  Luther,  and  the  red  lightning  of  Micah 
and  Habakkuk.  These  times  are  not  half  as  bad  as  the  times  that 
are  gone.  I  judge  so  from  the  fact  that  Aaron  Burr,  a  man  stuffed 
with  iniquity  until  he  could  hold  no  more,  the  debaucher  of  the  debauched, 
was  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  then  Attorney-General,  then  a  Senator  of 
the  United  States,  then  Vice-President,  and  then  at  last  coming  within  one 
vote  of  the  highest  position  in  this  nation.  I  judge  it  from  the  fact  that  more 
than  half  a  century  ago  the  Governor  of  New  York  disbanded  the  Legislature 
because  it  was  too  corrupt  to  sit  in  council. 

There  is  a  tendency  in  our  time  to  extol  the  past  to  the  disadvantage  of 
the  present,  and  I  suppose  that  sixty  years  from  now  there  may  be  persons 
who  will  represent  some  of  us  as  angels,  although  now  things  are  so  unprom- 
ising. But  the  iniquity  of  the  past  is  no  excuse  for  the  public  wickedness  of 
to-day,  and  so  I  unroll  the  scroll.  Those  who  are  in  editorial  chairs  and  in 
pulpits  may  not  hold  back  the  truth.  King  David  must  be  made  to  feel  the 
reproof  of  Nathan,  and  Felix  must  tremble  before  Paul,  and  Ananias  must 
receive  the  punishment  of    liars,  and  we  may  not  walk  with    muffled    feet    lest 

(5°9) 


5"> 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


we  wake  up  some  big  sinner.  If  we  keep  back  the  truth,  what  will  \v«  do 
in  the  day  when  the  Lord  rises  up  in  judgment  and  we  are  tried  not  only  for 
what  we  have  said,  but  for  what  we  have  declined  to  say  ? 


INCOMPETENCY   OF   OFFICIALS. 


In  unrolling  the  scroll  of  public  wickedness,  I  first  find  incompetency  for 
office.  If  a  man  struggle  for  an  official  position  for  which  he  has  no  qualifica- 
tion, and  win  that  position,  he  commits  a  crime  against  God  and  against  society. 
It  is  no  sin  for  me  to  be  ignorant  of  medical  science ;   but  if,  ignorant  of  medi- 


THE   DEATH    OF   ANANIAS. 


cal  science,  I  set  myself  up  among  professional  men  and  trifle  with  the  lives  of 
people,  then  the  charlatanism  becomes  positive  knavery.  It  is  no  sin  for  me 
to  be  ignorant  of  machinery  ;  but  if,  knowing  nothing  about  it,  I  attempt  to 
take  a  steamer  across  to  Southampton  and  through  darkness  and  storm  I  hold 
the  lives  of  hundreds  of  passengers,  then  all  who  are  slain  by  that  shipwreck 
may  hold  me  accountable.  But  what  shall  I  say  of  those  who  attempt  to 
doctor  our  institutions  without  qualification  and  who  attempt  to  engineer  our 
political  affairs  across  the  rough  and  stormy  sea,  having  no  qualification  ?  We 
had  at  one  time  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  men  who  put  one  tariff 
upon  linseed  oil  and  another  tariff  upon  flaxseed    oil,    not    knowing    they    were 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


si  J 


the  same  thing.  We  have  had 
men  in  our  Legislatures  who 
knew  not  whether  to  vote  yes 
or  no  until  they  had  seen  the 
wink  of  the  leader.  Polished 
civilians  acquainted  with  all 
our  institutions  run  over  in  a 
stampede  for  office  by  men  who 
have  not  the  first  qualification. 
And  so  there  have  been  school 
commissioners  sometimes  nomi- 
nated in  grog-shops  and  hur- 
rahed for  by  the  rabble,  the 
men  elected  not  able  to  read 
their  own  commissions.  And 
judges  of  courts  who  have 
given  sentence  to  criminals  in 
such  inaccuracy  of  phraseology 
that  the  criminal  at  the  bar 
has  been  more  amused  at  the 
stupidity  of  the  bench  than 
alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  his 
own  punishment.  I  arraign 
incompetency  for  office  as  one 
of  the  great  crimes  of  this  day 
in  public  places. 

I  unroll  still  further  the 
scroll  of  public  wickedness,  and 
I  come  to  intemperance.  There 
has  been  a  great  improvement 
in  this  direction.  The  senators 
who  were  more  celebrated  for 
their  drunkenness  than  for 
their  statesmanship  are  dead 
or  compelled  to  stay  at  home. 
I  very  well  remember  that 
there  went  from  the  State  of 
New  York  at  one  time,  and 
from  the  State  of  Delaware, 
and  from  the  State  of  Illinois, 
and  from  other  States  men  who 
were  notorious  everywhere  as 
inebriates.      The    day  is    past. 


CHRISTIANITY   AND  THE  DRAGON   OF   INTEMPERANCE. 

(From  the  Statue  by  Miss  Gram.) 


6*2 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


The  grog-shop  under  the  national  Capitol,  to  which  our  rulers  used  to  go  to 
get  inspiration  before  they  spoke  upon  the  great  moral  and  financial  and 
commercial  interests  of  the  country,  has  been  disbanded;  but  I  am  told  even 
now  under  the  national  Capitol  there  are  places  where  our  rulers  can  get  some 
very  strong  lemonade.  But  there  has  been  a  vast  improvement.  At  one  time  I 
went  to  Washington,  to  the  door  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  sent  in 
my  card  to  an  old  friend.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  many  years,  and  the  last 
time  I  saw  him  he  was  conspicuous  for  his  integrity  and  uprightness ;  but  that 
day  when  he  came  out  to  greet  me  he  was  staggering  drunk. 

DRUNKARDS   IN   OUR   LEGISLATURES. 

The  temptation  to  intemperance  in  public  places  is  simply  terrific.  How 
often  there  have  been  men  in  public  places  who  have  disgraced  the  nation. 
Of  the  men  who  were  prominent  in  political  circles  twenty-five  or  thirty  years 
ago,  how  few  died  respectable  deaths.  Those  who  died  of  delirium  tremens  or 
kindred  diseases  were  in  the  majority.  The  doctor  fixed  up  the  case  very 
well,  and  in  his  report  of  it  said  it  was  gout,  or  it  was  rheumatism,  or  it  was 
obstruction  of  the  liver,  or  it  was  exhaustion  from  patriotic  services,  but  God 
knew  and  we  all  knew  it  was  whiskey !  That  which  smote  the  villain  in  the 
dark  alley,  smote  down  the  great  orator  and  the  great  legislator.  The  one 
you  wrapped  in  a  rough  cloth,  and  pushed  into  a  rough  coffin,  and  carried  out 
in  a  box  wagon,  and  let  him  down  into  a  pauper's  grave  without  a  prayer  or 
a  benediction.  Around  the  other  gathered  the  pomp  of  the  land;  and  lordly 
men  walked  with  uncovered  heads  beside  the  hearse  tossing  with  plumes  on 
the  way  to  a  grave  to  be  adorned  with  a  white  marble  shaft,  all  four  sides 
covered  with  eulogium.  The  one  man  was  killed  by  logwood  rum  at  two  cents 
a  glass,  the  other  by  a  beverage  three  dollars  a  bottle.  I  write  both  their 
epitaphs.  I  write  the  one  epitaph  with  my  lead-pencil  on  the  shingle  over  the 
pauper's  grave ;  I  write  the  other  epitaph  with  chisel,  cutting  on  the  white 
marble  of  the  senator :     "  Slain  by  strong  drink." 

You  know  as  well  as  I  that  again  and  again  dissipation  has  been  no 
hindrance  to  office  in  this  country.  Did  we  not  at  one  time  have  a  Secretary 
of  the  United  States  carried  home  dead  drunk  ?  Did  we  not  have  a  Vice- 
President  sworn  in  so  intoxicated  the  whole  land  hid  its  head  in  shame  ?  Have 
we  not  in  other  times  had  men  in  the  Congress  of  the  nation  by  day  making 
pleas  in  behalf  of  the  interests  of  the  country,  and  by  night  illustrating  what 
Solomon  said :  "  He  goeth  after  her  straightway  as  an  ox  to  the  slaughter 
and  as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks,  until  a  dart  strikes  through  his 
liver."  Judges  and  jurors  and  attorneys,  sometimes  trying  important  causes  by 
day,  and  by  night  carousing  together  in  iniquity.  What  was  it  that  defeated 
the  armies  sometimes  in  the  late  war?  Drunkenness  in  the  saddle.  What 
mean  those  graves  on  the  heights  of  Fredericksburg  ?  As  you  go  to  Richmond 
yen  see  them.     Drunkenness  in  the  saddle.     So  again  and  again  in  the  courts 


COPYRIGHTED    1&&& 


the:  cross    of  prayer 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


Sx3 


we  have  had  demonstration  of 
the  fact  that  impurity  walks 
under  the  chandeliers  of  the 
mansion  and  drowses  on  damask 
upholstery.  Iniquity  permitted 
to  run  unchallenged  if  it  only 
be  affluent.  Stand  back  and  let 
this  libertine  ride  past  in  his 
$5000  equipage,  but  clutch  by 
the  neck  that  poor  sinner  who 
transgresses  on  a  small  scale, 
and  fetch  him  up  to  the  police 
court,  and  give  him  a  ride  in 
the  city  van.  Down  with  small 
villainy  !  Hurrah  for  grand  in- 
iquity !  If  you  have  not  noticed 
that  intemperance  is  one  of  the 
crimes  in  public  places  to-day, 
you  have  not  been  to  Albany, 
and  you  have  not  been  to  Har- 
risburg,  and  you  have  not  been 
to  Trenton,  and  you  have  not 
been  to  Washington.  The  whole 
land  cries  out  against  the  in- 
iquity. But  the  two  political 
parties  are  silent  lest  they  lose 
votes,  and  many  of  the  news- 
papers are  silent  lest  they  lose 
subscribers,  and  many  of  the 
pulpits  are  silent  because  there 
are  offenders  in  the  pews. 
Meanwhile  God's  indignation 
gathers  like  the  flashings  around 
a  threatening  cloud  just  before 
the  swoop  of  a  tornado.  The 
whole  land  cries  out  to  be  deliv- 
ered. The  nation  sweats  great 
drops  of  blood.  It  is  crucified, 
not  between  two  thieves,  but 
between  a  thousand,  while  na- 
tions pass  by  wagging  their 
heads,  and  saying:  "Aha! 
Aha ! " 

3j 


ONWARD,    IN   THE   NAME   OF   CHRIST. 


5T4  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

BRIBERY    AND    CORRUPTION. 

I  unroll  the  scroll  of  public  iniquity  and  I  come  to  bribery — bribery  by 
money,  bribery  by  proffered  office.  Do  not  charge  it  upon  American  institu- 
tions. It  is  a  sin  we  got  from  the  other  side  the  water.  Francis  Bacon,  the 
thinker  of  his  century,  Francis  Bacon,  of  whom  it  was  said  when  men  heard 
him  speak  they  were  only  fearful  that  he  would  stop,  Francis  Bacon,  with  all 
his  castles  and  all  his  emoluments,  destroyed  by  bribery,  fined  $200,000,  or 
what  is  equal  to  our  $200,000,  and  hurled  into  London  Tower,  and  his  only 
excuse  was  he  said  all  his  predecessors  had  done  the  same  thing.  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Macclesfield  destroyed  by  bribery.  Lord  Chancellor  Waterbury  destroyed 
by  bribery.  Benedict  Arnold  selling  the  fort  in  the  Highlands  for  $31,575. 
For  this  sin  Georgy  betrayed  Hungary,  and  Ahithophel  forsook  David,  and 
Judas  kissed  Christ.  And  it  is  abroad  in  our  land.  You  know  in  many  of 
the  Legislatures  of  this  country  it  has  been  impossible  to  get  a  bill  through 
unless  it  had  financial  consideration.  The  question  has  been  asked  softly, 
sometimes  very  softly  asked,  in  regard  to  a  bill :  "  Is  there  any  money  in  it  ?  " 
and  the  lobbies  of  the  Legislatures  and  the  National  Capitol  have  been  crowded 
with  railroad  men  and  manufacturers  and  contractors,  and  the  iniquity  has 
become  so  great  that  sometimes  reformers  and  philanthropists  have  been  laughed 
out  of  Harrisburg,  and  Albany,  and  Trenton,  and  Washington  because  they  came 
empty-handed.  "  You  vote  for  this  bill  and  I'll  vote  for  that  bill."  "  You 
favor  that  monopoly  of  a  moneyed  institution  and  I'll  favor  the  other  monopoly 
of  another  institution."  And  here  is  a  bill  that  is  going  to  be  very  hard  to 
get  through  the  Legislature,  and  you  will  call  some  friends  together  at  a  midnight 
banquet,  and  while  they  are  intoxicated  you  will  have  them  promise  to  vote 
your  way.  Here  are  $5000  for  prudent  distribution  in  this  direction,  and  here 
are  $1000  for  prudent  distribution  in  that  direction.  Now,  we  are  within  four 
votes  of  having  enough.  You  give  $5000  to  that  intelligent  member  from 
Westchester,  and  you  give  $2000  to  that  stupid  member  from  Ulster,  and  now 
we  are  within  two  votes  of  having  it.  Give  $500  to  this  member  who  will  be 
sick  and  stay  at  home  and  $300  to  this  member  who  will  go  to  see  his  great- 
aunt  languishing  in  her  last  sickness.  Now  the  day  has  come  for  the  passing 
of  the  bill.  The  Speaker's  gavel  strikes.  "  Senators,  are  you  ready  for  the 
question  ?  All  in  favor  of  voting  away  these  thousands  or  millions  of  dollars 
will  say  'Ay.'"     yAy!  Ay!  Ay!  Ay!"     "The  ays  have  it." 

REVOLUTION   AHEAD. 

Some  of  the  finest  houses  of  our  cities  were  built  out  of  money  paid  for 
votes  in  the  Legislatures.  Five  hundred  small  wheels  in  political  machinery 
with  cogs  reaching  into  one  great  centre  wheel,  and  that  wheel  has  a  tire  of 
railroad  iron  and  a  crank  to  it  on  which  Satan  puts  his  hand  and  turns  the 
centre  wheel,  and  that  turns  the  five  hundred  other  wheels  of  political  machinery. 
While  in  this  country  it  is  becoming  harder  and  harder  for  the  great  mass  of 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


5i5 


the  people  to  get  a  living,  there  are  too  many  men  in  this  country  who  have 
their  two  millions,  and  their  ten  millions,  and  their  twenty  millions,  and  carry 
the  legislators  in  one  pocket  and  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  in  the 
other.  And  there  is  trouble  ahead.  Revolution.  I  pray  God  it  may  be  peace- 
ful revolution  and  at  the  ballot-box.  The  time  must  come  in  this  country 
when  men  shall  be  sent  into  public  position  who  cannot  be  purchased.  I  do 
not  want  the  union  of  Church  and  State,  but  I  declare  that  if  the  Church  of 
God  does  not  show  ilself  in  favor  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people  as  well  as 
in  favor  of  the    Lord,  the    time  will    come  when   the  Church  as  an  institution 


PURIFIED   THROUGH    FIRE. 


will  be  extinct,  and  Christ  will  go  down  again  to  the  beach,  and  choose  tweU  ; 
plain,  honest  fishermen  to  come  up  into  the  apostleship  of  a  new  dispensation 
of  righteousness,  manward  and  Godward. 

Bribery  is  cursing  this  land.  The  evil  started  with  its  greatest  powei 
luring  the  last  war,  when  men  said,  "  Now  you  give  me  this  contract  f.bove 
•'very  other  applicant,  and  you  shall  have  ten  per  cent,  of  all  I  make  03'  it. 
You  pass  these  broken-down  cavalry  horses  as  good,  and  you  shall  ha  e  five 
thousand  dollars  as  a  bonus."  "  Bonus"  is  the  word.  And  so  they  sei  t  down 
to  your  fathers,  and  brothers,  and  sons,  rice  that  was  worm-eaten,  and  bi  ;ad  that 


5i6 


THE  PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


was  mouldy,  and  meat  that  was  rank,  and  blankets  that  were  shoddy,  and  cavalry 
horses  that  stumbled  in  the  charge,  and  tents  that  sifted  the  rain  into  exhausted 
faces.  But  it  was  all  right.  They  got  the  bonus.  I  never  so  much  believed 
in  a  republican  form  of  government  as  I  do  to-day,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
any  other  style  of  government  would  have  been  consumed  long  ago.  There 
have  been  swindles  enacted  in  this  nation  within  the  last  thirty    years    enough 


DECORATION    DAY. 


to  swamp  three  monarchies.  The  Democratic  party  filled  its  cup  of  iniquity 
before  it  went  out  of  power  before  the  war.  Then  the  Republican  party  came 
along,  and  its  opportunities  through  the  contracts  were  greater,  and  so  it  filled 
its  cup  of  iniquity  a  little  sooner,  and  there  they  lie  to-day,  the  Democratic 
party  and  the  Republican  party,  side  by  side,  great  loathsome  carcasses  of  iniquity, 
each  one  worse  than  the  other.    Tens  of   thousands  of  good  citizens  in  all  the 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  517 

parties ;  but  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  party  organization  in  this  country 
is  utterly,  utterly  corrupt. 

YOUR  DUTY  TO  YOUR  COUNTRY. 

Now,  if  there  were  nothing  for  you  and  for  me  to  do  in  this  matter  I 
would  not  present  this  subject.  There  are  several  things  for  us  to  do.  First, 
stand  aloof  from  political  office  unless  you  have  your  moral  principles 
thoroughly  settled.  Do  not  go  into  this  blaze  of  temptation  unless  you  are 
fireproof.  Hundreds  of  respectable  men  have  been  destroyed  for  this  life  and 
the  life  to  come  because  they  had  not  moral  principle  to  stand  office.  You  go 
into  some  office  of  authority  without  moral  principle,  and  before  you  get  through 
you  will  lie,  and  you  will  swear,  and  you  will  gamble,  and  you  will  steal. 
Another  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  be  faithful  at  the  ballot-box.  Do  not  stand 
on  your  dignity  and  say,  "  I'll  not  go  where  the  rabble  are.  If  need  be,  put 
on  your  old  clothes  and  just  push  yourself  through  amid  the  unwashed,  and 
vote.  Vote  for  men  who  love  God  and  hate  rum.  You  cannot  say,  you  ought 
not  to  say,  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  matter."  Then  you  will  insult 
the  graves  of  your  fathers  who  died  for  the  establishment  of  the  government 
and  will  insult  the  graves  of  your  children  who  may  live  to  feel  the  results  of 
your  negligence.  Let  us  have  Decoration  Day  for  the  brave  who  died  for 
liberty,  but  let  us  also  have  praise-giving,  honor  and  encouragement  for  those 
who  are  still  fighting  for  the  establishing  and  perpetuation  of  honesty  in  our 
government.  The  wife  may  not  sorrow  so  greatly  for  the  sire  who  dies  for  his 
country,  as  the  nation  may  grieve  for  the  acts  of  those  that  seek  to  destroy  the 
bulwarks  of  national  integrity.  Evangelize  the  people.  Get  the  hearts  of  the 
people  right,  and  they  will  vote  right.  I  know  there  are  a  great  many  good 
people  who  think  that  God  ought  to  be  recognized  in  the  Constitution,  and  they 
are  making  a  move  in  that  direction.  I  am  most  anxious  that  God  shall  be  in 
the  hearts  of  the  people.     Get  their  hearts  right,  and  then  they  will  vote  right. 

If  there  be  fifty  million  people  in  this  country,  then  at  least  a  fifty- 
millionth  part  of  the  responsibility  rests  on  you.  What  we  want  is  a  great 
revival  of  religion  reaching  from  sea  to  sea,  and  it  is  going  to  come.  A  news- 
paper gentleman  asked  me  a  few  weeks  ago  what  I  thought  of  revivals.  I 
said  I  thought  so  much  of  them  I  never  put  my  faith  in  anything  else.  We 
want  thousands  in  a  day,  hundreds  of  thousands  in  a  day,  nations  in  a  day. 
Get  all  the  people  evangelized,  brought  under  Christianized  influences.  These 
great  evils  that  we  now  so  much  deplore  will  be  banished  from  the  land.  And 
remember  that  we  are  at  last  to  be  judged,  not  as  nations,  but  as  individuals — 
in  that  day  when  empires  and  republics  shall  alike  go  down  and  we  shall  have 
to  give  account  for  ourselves,  for  what  we  have  done  and  for  what  we  have 
neglected  to  do — in  that  day  when  the  earth  itself  will  be  a  heap  of  ashes 
scattered  in  the  blast  of  the  nostrils  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty.  God  save 
the  United  States  of  America! 


(Boti's  (Circle. 

THE   GOOD   AND   EVIL   INFLUENCES   IN    MEN. 

OD  made  the  universe  on  the  plan  of  a  circle.  While 
yet  people  thought  that  the  world  was  flat,  and  thou- 
sands of  years  before  they  found  out  that  it  was  round, 
Isaiah  intimated  the  shape  of  it,  God  sitting  upon  the 
circle  of  the  earth.  The  most  beautiful  figure  in  all  geom- 
etry is  the  circle.  There  are  in  the  natural  world  straight 
lines,  angles,  parallelograms,  diagonals,  quadrangles ;  but 
these  evidently  are  not  God's  favorites.  Almost  every- 
where where  you  find  Him  geometrizing  you  find  the 
circle  dominant — if  not  the  circle  then  the  curve,  which 
is  a  circle  that  died  young.  If  it  had  lived  long  enough 
it  would  have  been  a  full  orb,  a  periphery.  An  ellipse  is  a  cir- 
cle pressed  only  a  little  too  hard  at  the  sides.  Giant's  Cause- 
way in  Ireland  shows  what  God  thinks  of  mathematics.  There 
are  many  thousand  columns  of  rocks — octagonal,  hexagonal, 
pentagonal.  These  rocks  seem  to  have  been  made  by  rule  and 
by  compass.  Every  artist  has  his  molding-room,  where  he  may 
make  fifty  shapes,  but  he  chooses  one  shape  as  preferable  to  all 
the  others.  I  will  not  say  that  the  Giant's  Causeway  was  the  world's  molding- 
room,  but  I  do  say,  out  of  a  great  many  figures,  God  seems  to  have  selected 
the  circle  as  the  best.  The  stars  in  a  circle,  the  moon  in  a  circle,  the  sun  in 
a  circle,  the  universe  in  a  circle,  and  the  throne  of  God  the  centre  of  that 
circle. 

When  men  build  churches  they  ought  to  imitate  the  idea  of  the  great 
Architect  and  put  the  audience  in  a  circle,  knowing  that  the  tides  of  emotion 
roll  more  easily  that  way  than  in  straight  lines.  Six  thousand  years  ago  God 
flung  this  world  out  of  His  right  hand ;  but  He  did  not  throw  it  out  in  a 
straight  line,  but  curvilinear,  with  a  lease  of  love  holding  it  so  as  to  bring  it 
back  again.  The  world  started  from  His  hand  pure  and  Edenic.  It  has  been 
rolling  on  through  regions  of  moral  ice  and  distemper.  How  long  it  will  roll, 
God  only  knows ;  but  it  will  in  due  time  make  a  complete  circuit  and  come 
back  to  the  place  where  it  started — the  hand  of  God — pure  and  Edenic. 

GREATNESS    OF    THE    PAST. 

The  history  of  the  world  goes  in  a  circle.  Why  is  it  the  shipping  in  our 
day  is   improving   so   rapidly  ?     It  is  because  men  are  imitating  the  old  model 

(518) 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


5i9 


of  Noah's  ark.  A  ship-carpenter  gives  that  as  his  opinion.  Although  so  much 
derided  by  small  wits,  that  ship  of  Noah's  time  beat  the  Etruria  and  the  Ger- 
manic, of  which  we  boast  so  much.  Where  is  the  ship  on  the  sea  to-day  that 
could  outride  a  deluge  in  which  the  heaven  and  the  earth  were  wrecked,  land- 
ing all  the  passengers  in  safety,  two  of  each  kind  of  living  creatures,  thou- 
sands of  species.  Pomology  will  go  on  with  its  achievements  until  after  many 
centuries  the  world  will  have  plums  and  pears  equal  to  the  Paradisaical.  The 
art  of  gardening  will  grow  for  centuries,  and  after  the  Downings  and  the  Mitch- 
ells of  the  world  have  done  their  best,  in  the  far  future  the  art  of  gardening 
will  come  up  to  the  arborescence  of  the  year  1.  If  the  makers  of  colored  glass 
go  on  improving  they  may  in  some  centuries  be  able  to  make  something  equal 
to  the  east  window  of  York    Minster,  which  was    built    in    1290.     We    are  six 


THE  CIRCLE  OV  PEACE. 


centuries  behind  those  artists,  but  the  world  must  keep  on  toiling  until  it  has 
made  the  complete  circuit  and  come  up  to  the  skill  of  those  very  men.  If 
the  world  continues  to  improve  in  masonry  we  shall  have  after  a  while,  per- 
haps after  the  advance  of  centuries,  mortar  equal  to  that  which  I  saw  in 
the  wall  of  an  exhumed  English  city,  built  in  the  time  of  the  Romans,  1600 
years  ago — that  mortar  to-day  is  as  good  as  the  day  in  which  it  was  made, 
having  outlasted  the  brick  and  the  stone.  I  say,  after  hundreds  of  years, 
masonry  may  advance  to  that  point.  If  the  world  stands  long  enough  we  may 
have  a  city  as  large  as  they  had  in  old  times.  Babylon,  five  times  the  size  of 
London.  You  go  into  the  potteries  of  England  and  you  find  them  making 
cups  and  vases  after  the  style  of  the  cups  and  vases  exhumed  from  Pompeii. 
The  world    is    not    going    back.     Oh,  no  !     But  it  is  swinging  in  a  circle,  and 


520 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE 


will  come  back  to  the  styles  of  pottery  known  so  long  ago  as  the  days  ol 
Pompeii.  The  world  must  keep  on  progressing,  until  it  makes  the  complete 
circuit.  The  curve  is  in  the  right  direction.  The  curve  will  keep  on  until  it 
becomes  a  circle. 


THE   FAMILY   CIRCLE. 

What  is  true  in  the  material  universe  is  true  in  God's  moral  government 
and  spiritual  arrangement.  That  is  the  meaning  of  Ezekiel's  wheel.  All 
commentators  agree  in  saying  that  the  wheel  means  God's  providence.  But  a 
wheel  is  of  no  use  unless  it  turn,  and  if  it  turn  it  turns  around,  and  if  it 
turn  around  it  moves  in  a  circle.     What    then  ?     Are  we  parts  of  a  great  iron 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  521 

■machine,  whirled  around  whether  we  will  or  not,  the  victims  of  inexorable 
fate  ?  No  ?  So  far  from  that,  I  shall  show  you  that  we  ourselves  start  the 
■circle  of  good  or  bad  actions,  and  that  it  will  surely  come  around  to  us, 
unless  by  divine  intervention  it  be  hindered.  Those  bad  or  good  actions  may 
make  the  circuit  of  many  years ;  but  come  back  to  us  they  will  as  certainly 
as  that  God  sits  on  the  circle  of  the  earth.  Jezebel,  the  worst  woman  of  the 
Bible,  slew  Naboth  because  she  wanted  his  vineyard.  While  the  dogs  were 
eating  the  body  of  Naboth,  Elisha,  the  prophet,  put  down  his  compass  and 
marked  a  circle  from  those  dogs  clear  around  to  the  dogs  that  should  eat  the 
body  of  Jezebel,  the  murderess.  "  Impossible,"  the  people  said  ;  "  that  will  never 
happen."  Who  is  that  being  flung  out  of  the  palace  window?  Jezebel.  A 
few  hours  after  they  came  around,  hoping  to  bury  her.  They  find  only  the 
palms  of  her  hands  and  the  skull.  The  dogs  that  devoured  Jezebel,  and  the 
dogs  that  devoured  Naboth !     Oh !  what  a  swift,  what  an  awful  circuit. 

THE    MUTATIONS    OF    TIME. 

But  it  is  sometimes  the  case  that  this  circle  sweeps  through  a  century 
or  through  many  centuries.  The  world  started  as  a  theocracy  for  government; 
that  is,  God  was  President  and  Emperor  of  the  world.  People  got  tired  of  a 
theocracy.  They  said :  "  We  don't  want  God  directly  interfering  with  the 
•affairs  of  the  world ;  give  us  a  monarchy."  The  world  had  a  monarchy.  From 
a  monarchy  it  is  going  to  have  a  limited  monarchy.  After  a  while  the  lim- 
ited monarchy  will  be  given  up,  and  the  republican  form  of  government  will 
be  everywhere  dominant  and  recognized.  Then  the  world  will  get  tired  of  the 
republican  form  of  government,  and  it  will  have  an  anarchy,  which  is  no 
government  at  all.  And  then,  all  nations  finding  out  that  man  is  not  capable 
of  righteously  governing  man,  will  cry  out  again  for  a  theocracy,  and  say : 
11  Let  God  come  back  and  conduct  the  affairs  of  the  world."  Every  step — mon- 
archy, limited  monarchy,  republicanism,  anarchy,  only  different  steps  between 
the  first  theocracy  and  the  last  theocracy,  or  segments  of  the  great  circle  of 
the  earth  on  which  God  sits. 

But  do  not  become  impatient  because  you  cannot  see  the  curve  of  events, 
and  therefore  conclude  that  God's  government  is  going  to  break  down.  History 
tells  us  that  in  the  making  of  the  pyramids  it  took  2000  men  two  years  to 
drag  one  great  stone  from  the  quarry  and  put  it  into  the  pyramids.  Well, 
now,  if  men,  short-lived,  can  afford  to  work  so  slowly  as  that,  cannot  God,  in 
the  building  of  the  eternities,  afford  to  -"'ait  ?  What  though  God  should  take 
10,000  years  to  draw  a  circle  ?  Shall  we  take  our  little  watch,  which  we  have 
to  wind  up  every  night  lest  it  run  down,  and  hold  it  up  beside  the  clock  of 
eternal  ages  ?  If,  according  to  the  Bible,  1000  years  are  in  God's  sight  as  a 
day,  then,  according  to  that  calculation,  the  6000  years  of  the  world's  existence 
has  been  only  to  God  as  from  Monday  to  Saturday. 


522 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


But  it  is  often  the  case  that  the  rebound  is  quicker,  and  the  circle  is 
sooner  completed.  You  resolve  that  you  will  do  what  good  you  can.  In  one 
week  you  put  a  word  of  counsel  in  the  heart  of  a  Sabbath-school  child.  During 
the  same  week  you  give  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  young  man  struggling  in 
business.  During  the  same  week  you  made  an  exhortation  in  a  prayer-meet- 
ing.    It  is  all    gone ;    you  will    never    hear    of  it    perhaps,  you    think.     A  few 

years  after  a  man  comes 
to  you  and  says  :  "  You 
don't  know  me,  do  you  ?" 
You  say :  "  No,  I  don't 
remember  ever  to  have 
seen  you."  "  Why,"  he 
says,  "  I  was  in  the 
Sabbath-school  class  of 
which  you  were  the 
teacher.  One  Sunday 
you  invited  me  to  Christ. 
I  accepted  the  offer. 
You  see  that  church  with 
two  towers,  yonder  ?  " 
"  Yes,"  you  say.  He 
says  :  "  That  is  where  I 
preach."  Or,  "  Do  you 
see  that  Governor's 
house.  That  is  where 
I  live."  One  day  a 
man  comes  to  you  and 
says  :  "  Good-morning." 
You  look  at  him  and 
say  :  "  Why,  you  have 
the  advantage  of  me ; 
I  cannot  place  you." 
He  says :  "  Don't  you 
remember,  thirty  years 
ago,  giving  a  letter  of 
introduction  to  a  young 
man — a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  a  prominent 
man.  That  was  my  first 
step  toward  a  fortune;  but  I  have  retired  from  business  now,  and  am  giving 
my  time  to  philanthropies  and  public  interests.  Come  up  to  my  country  place 
and  see  me."  Or  a  man  comes  to  you  and  says  :  "  I  want  to  introduce  myself 
to   you.     I  went   into  a  prayer-meeting   some  years  ago.     I  sat   back    near  the 


THK  CURVE. 


merchant  ?  "     "  Yes,    I   do."     He    says :    "  I    am    the 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  523 

door.  You  arose  to  make  an  exhortation.  That  talk  changed  the  course  of 
my  life,  and  if  I  ever  get  to  heaven,  I  will  owe  my  salvation  to  you."  In  only 
ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  years,  the  circle  swept  out  and  swept  back  again  to  your 
*wn  grateful  heart. 

But  sometimes  it  is  a  wider  circle  and  does  not  return  for  a  great  while. 
I  saw  a  bill  of  expenses  for  burning  Latimer  and  Ridley.  The  bill  of  expenses 
says :  One  load  of  fir  fagots,  three  shillings,  four  pence ;  cartage  of  four  loads 
of  wood,  two  shillings;  a  post,  one  shilling,  four  pence;  two  chains,  three 
shillings,  four  pence ;  two  staples,  six  pence ;  four  laborers,  two  shillings,  eight 
pence  ;  total  of  twelve  shillings,  six  pence.  That  was  a  cheap  fire,  considering 
all  the  circumstances  ;  but  it  kindled  a  light  which  shone  all  around  the  world 
and  around  the  martyr  spirit ;  and  out  from  that  burning  rolled  the  circle, 
wider  and  wider,  starting  other  circles,  convoluting,  over-running,  circumscribing, 
over-arching  all  heaven. 

THY    SINS    WILL    DISCOVER    YOU. 

But  what  is  true  of  the  good  is  just  as  true  of  the  bad.  You  utter  a 
slander  against  your  neighbor.  It  has  gone  forth  from  your  teeth.  It  will 
never  come  back,  you  think.  You  have  done  the  man  all  the  mischief  you 
can.  You  rejoice  to  see  him  wince.  You  say :  "  Didn't  I  give  it  to  him  ? " 
That  word  has  gone  out,  that  slanderous  word,  on  its  poisonous  and  blasted 
way.  You  think  it  will  never  do  you  any  harm.  But  I  am  watching  that 
word,  and  I  see  it  beginning  to  curve,  and  it  curves  around,  and  it  is  aiming 
at  your  heart.  You  had  better  dodge  it.  You  cannot  dodge  it.  It  rolls  into 
your  bosom,  and  after  it  rolls  in  a  word  of  an  old  book,  which  says :  "  With 
what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again." 

You  maltreat  an  aged  parent.  You  begrudge  him  the  room  in  your  house. 
You  are  impatient  of  his  whimsicalities  and  garrulity.  It  makes  you  mad  to 
hear  him  tell  the  same  story  twice.  You  give  him  food  he  cannot  masticate. 
You  wish  he  was  away.  You  wonder  if  he  is  going  to  live  forever.  He  will  be 
gone  very  soon.  His  steps  are  shorter  and  shorter.  He  is  going  to  stop.  But 
God  has  an  account  to  settle  with  you  on  that  subject.  After  a  while  your  eye 
will  be  dim  and  your  gait  will  halt,  and  the  sound  of  the  grinding  will  be 
slow,  and  you  will  tell  the  same  stoi-y  twice,  and  your  children  will  wonder  if 
you  are  going  to  live  forever,  and  wonder  if  you  will  never  be  taken  away. 
They  called  you  "  father"  once ;  now  they  call  you  "  the  old  man."  If  you 
live  a  few  years  longer  they  will  call  you  "  the  old  chap."  What  are  those 
rough  words  with  which  your  children  are  accosting  you?  They  are  the  echo 
of  the  very  words  you  used  in  the  ear  of  your  old  father  forty  years  ago. 
What  is  that  which  you  are  trying  to  chew,  but  find  it  unmasticable,  and  your 
jaws  ache  as  you  surrender  the  attempt  ?  Perhaps  it  may  be  the  gristle  which 
you  gave  to  your  father  for  his  breakfast  forty  years  ago.  A  gentleman 
passing    along    the    street   saw  a    son    dragging   his    father   by  the  hair  of  his 


524 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


head.  The  gentleman,  outraged  at  this  brutal  conduct,  was  about  to  punish 
the  offender,  when  the  old  man  arose  and  said  :  "  Don't  hurt  him ;  it's  all 
right ;  forty  years  ago  this  morning  I  dragged  out  my  father  by  the  hair  of 
his  head."  Other  sins  may  be  adjourned  to  the  next  world,  but  maltreatment 
of  parents  is  punished  in  this. 

INFLUENCE    OF    VOLTAIRE    ANP    MARAT. 

The  circle  turns  quickly,  very  quickly.  Oh,  what  a  stupendous  thought 
that  the  good  and  the  evil  we  start  come  back  to  us !  Do  you  know  that  the 
judgment  day  will  be  only  the  point  at  which  the  circle  joins — the  good  and  the 
bad  we  have  done  coming  back  to  us,  unless  divine  intervention  hinders — coming 

back  to  us,  welcome 
of  delight  or  curse 
o  f  condemnation  ? 
Oh,  I  would  like  to 
see  Paul,  the  invalid 
missionary,  at  the 
moment  when  his 
influence  comes  to 
full  orb — his  influ- 
ence rolling  out 
through  Antioch, 
through  Cyprus, 
through  Lystra, 
through  Corinth, 
through  Athens, 
through  Asia, 
through  Europe 
through  America, 
through  the  first 
century,    through 

five  centuries,  through  twenty  centuries,  through  all  the  succeeding  centuries, 
through  earth,  through  heaven,  and,  at  last,  the  wave  of  influence  having  made 
full  circuit,  strikes  his  great  soul  !  Oh,  then  I  would  like  to  see  him  !  No 
one  can  tell  the  wide  sweep  of  the  circle  of  his  influence,  save  the  One  who  is 
seated  on  the  circle  of  the  earth.  I  should  not  want  to  see  the  countenance 
of  Voltaire  when  his  influence  comes  to  full  orb.  When  the  fatal  hemorrhage 
seized  him  at  eighty-three  years  of  age  his  influence  did  not  cease.  The  most 
brilliant  man  of  his  century,  he  had  used  all  his  faculties  for  assaulting 
Christianity  ;  his  bad  influence  widening  through  France,  widening  out  through 
Germany,  widening  through  all  Europe,  widening  through  America,  widening 
through  the  years  that  have  gone  by  since  he  died,  widening  through  earth, 
widening    through    hell ;     until    at    last    the    accumulated    influence    of  his   bad 


TUB  CIRCLE  COMPLETE. 


THK   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


525 


life,  in  fiery  surge  ol  omnipotent  wrath,  will  beat  against  his  destroyed  spirit, 
and  at  that  moment  it  will  be  enough  to  make  the  black  hair  of  eternal  darkness 
turn  white  with  horror.  Nor  would  I  want  to  see  the  countenance  of  Marat  as 
he  lay  in  his  bath 
struggling,  with 
a  dagger  in  his 
heart,  a  victim 
of  outraged  jus- 
tice, for  the  crimes 
he  had  perpe- 
trated. No  one 
can  tell  how  these 
two  bad  men's  in- 
fluence girdled 
the  earth,  save 
the  One  who  is 
seated  on  the  cir- 
cle of  the  world — 
the  Lord  Al- 
mighty. 

"Well,  now," 
people  say,  "this 
is  in  some  re- 
spects a  very  glad 
theory,  and  in 
others  a  very  sad 
one ;  we  would 
like  to  have  all 
the  good  we  have 
ever  done  come 
back  to  us,  but 
the  thought  that 
all  the  sins  we 
have  ever  com- 
mitted will  come 
back  to  us  fills 
us  with  affright." 
My  brother,  I 
have  to  tell  you 
God   can    break 

that  circle  and  will  do  so  at  your  call.  I  can  bring  twenty  passages  of 
Scripture  to  prove  that  when  God  for  Christ's  sake  forgives  man.  the  sins 
of  his  past  life  never  come    back.     The   wheel   may  roll   on   and   roll   on,  but 


THE  last  toilet  of  charlottb  corday. — From  the  Painting  by  E.  M.  Ward. 

Charlotte  Corday,  born  in  Normandy,  France,  1768,  was  the  daughter  of  the  poet  Corneille.  She  possessed  a 
bright  mind,  and  during  the  persecutions  of  the  Girondists  she  became  so  inflamed  with  anger  at  the  persecutor!,  th^t 
she  thought  to  end  the  atrocities  by  assassinating  the  master  spirit,  Marat.  She  accordingly  went  to  Paris,  and 
contrived  to  procure  an  audience  with  Marat  as  he  was  in  his  bath.  Here  she  gave  him  the  names  of  persons  which 
she  claimed  to  deserve  his  vengeance,  and  as  he  was  writing  them  down  she  plunged  a  dagger  into  his  heart.  For 
this  act  she  was  guillotined  July  17th,  1793. 


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(526) 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE.  527 

you  take  your  position  behiud  the  cross,  and  the  wheel  strikes  the  cross 
and  it  is  shattered  forever.  The  sins  fly  off  from  the  circle  into  the  perpen- 
dicular, falling  at  right  angles  with  complete  oblivion.  Forgiven !  forgiven ! 
The  meanest  thing  a  man  can  do  is,  after  some  difficulty  has  been  settled,  to 
bring  it  up  again ;  and  God  will  not  be  so  mean  as  that.  God's  memory  is 
mighty  enough  to  hold  all  the  events  of  the  ages,  but  there  is  one  thing  that 
is  sure  to  slip  his  memory,  one  thing  he  is  sure  to  forget,  and  that  is  pardoned 
transgression. 

But  let  not  the  reader  make  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  this  doctrine  of 
the  circle  stops  with  this  life :  it  rolls  on  through  heaven.  You  might  quote 
in  opposition  to  me  what  Saint  John  says  about  the  city  of  Heaven.  He  says 
it  "  lieth  four  square."  That  does  seem  to  militate  against  this  idea,  but  you 
know  there  is  many  a  square  house  that  has  a  family  circle  facing  each  other 
and  in  a  circle  moving,  and  this  is  so  in  regard  to  heaven.  Saint  John  says : 
"  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round  about  the  throne  and  the  beasts  and 
the  elders."  And  again  he  says :  "  There  was  a  rainbow  round  about  the 
throne."  The  two  former  instances  a  circle ;  the  last  either  a  circle  or  a  semi- 
circle. The  seats  facing  each  other,  the  angels  facing  each  other,  the  men 
facing  each  other.  The  Romans  had  an  amphitheatre  where  men  met  in 
peaceful  rivalry  to  win  earthly  glory,  but  heaven  has  an  amphitheatre  of 
perpetual  glory  in  which  there  is  no  rivalry.  Circumference  of  patriarch  and 
prophet  and  apostle.  Circumference  of  Scotch  covenanters  and  Theban  legion 
and  Albigenses.  Circumference  of  the  good  of  all  ages.  Periphery  of  splendor 
unimagined  and  indescribable. 

But  every  circumference  must  have  a  centre,  and  what  is  the  centre  of  this 
heavenly  circumference?  Christ.  His  all  the  glory,  His  all  the  praise,  His  all 
the  crowns.  All  heaven  wreathed  into  a  garland  round  about  Him.  Take  off 
the  imperial  sandal  from  His  foot,  and  behold  the  scar  of  the  spike.  Lift  the 
coronet  of  dominion  from  His  brow,  and  -.v-e  where  the  lacerations  of  the  briars. 
Come  closer,  all  heaven.  Narrow  the  circle  around  His  great  heart.  O  Christ, 
the  Saviour.  O  Christ,  the  man !  O  Christ,  the  God !  Keep  Thy  throne  for« 
ever,  seated  on  the  circle  of  the  earth,  seated  on  the  circle  of  the  heaven  1 

On  Christ,  the  solid  rock,  I  stand; 
All  other  ground  is  shifting  sand. 


5> 


.....v..      _    . . 


&  ^Purposeless  Jitfe. 

THE   NEED   OF   AN   AIM,    FORTIFIED   BY   AMBITION. 

SAIAH  gives  a  description  of   the  idolatry  and  worldliness    of 
people  in    his  time,  and  of   a  very  prevalent  style  of  diet  in 
our  time.     The  world    spreads    a  great    feast  and    invites  the 
race  to  sit  at  it.     Platters  are  heaped  up.     Chalices  are    full. 
Garlands  wreathe  the  wall.     The    guests    sit  down  amid  out- 
bursts   of   hilarity.     They  take    the    fruit    and    it   turns    into 
ashes.     They  uplift  the  tankards  and  their  contents  prove  to 
be    gall.     They    touch    the    garlands    and   they   scatter    into 
dust.      I   do    not    know    any    passage    of   Scripture   which    so 
apothegmatically  sets    forth  the    unsatisfactory  nature    of   this  world 
for  eye,  and    tongue,  and    lip,  and  heart  as  this    particular   passage,, 
describing  the  votary  of  the  world,  when  it    says:    "  He    feedeth  on 
ashes." 

I  shall  not  take  the  estimate  by  those  whose  life  has  been  a 
failure.  A  man  may  despise  the  world  simply  because  he  cannot 
win  it.  Having  failed,  in  his  chagrin  he  may  decry  that  which  he 
would  like  to  have  had  as  his  bride.  I  shall,  therefore,  take  only 
the  testimony  of  those  who  have  been  magnificently  successful.  In 
the  first  place,  I  shall  ask  the  kings  of  the  earth  to  stand  up  and 
give  testimony,  telling  of  the  long  story  of  sleepless  nights,  and 
poisoned  cups,  and  threatened  invasion,  and  dreaded  rebellion.  Ask 
the  Georges,  ask  the  Henrys,  ask  the  Marys,  ask  the  Louises,  ask  the 
Catharines,  ask  the  Lady  Jane  Greys,  whether  they  found  the  throne  a  safe  seat, 
and  the  crown  a  pleasant  covering.  Ask  the  French  guillotine  in  Madame  Taus- 
saud's  Museum  about  the  queenly  necks  it  has  dissevered.  Ask  the  Tower  of 
London  and  its  headsman's  block.  Ask  the  Tuileries,  and  Henry  VIII. ,  and 
Cardinal  Woolsey  to  rise  out  of  the  dust,  and  say  what  they  think  of  worldly 
honors.  Ghastly  with  the  first  and  the  second  death,  they  rise  up  with  eyeless 
sockets  and  grinning  skeletons,  and  stagger  forth  unable  at  first  to  speak  at 
all,  but  afterward  hoarsely  whispering:    "Ashes!  Ashes!" 


THE    VANITY    OF   RICHES. 

I  call  up  also  a  group  of  commercial  adepts  to  give  testimony ;  and  here 
again,  those  who  have  been  only  moderately  successful  may  not  testify.  All 
the  witnesses  must  be  millionaires.  What  a  grand  thing  it  must  be  to  own  a 
railroad,  to  control    a   bank,  to  possess  all    the    houses    on    one    street,  to   have. 

(528) 


34 


(529) 


53o  THE  PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 

vast  investments  tumbling  in  upon  you  day  after  day,  whether  you  work  or 
not.  No;  no.  William  B.  Astor,  a  few  days  before  his  death,  sits  in  his  office 
in  New  York,  grieving  almost  until  he  is  sick,  because  rents  have  gone  down. 
A.  T.  Stewart  finds  his  last  days  full  of  foreboding  and  doubt.  When  a 
Christian  man  proposes  to  talk  to  him  about  the  matters  of  the  soul,  he  cries : 
"Go  away  from  me!  Go  away  from  me;"  not  satisfied  until  the  man  has  got 
outside  the  door.  Come  up,  ye  millionaire's,  from  various  cemeteries  and 
graveyards,  and  tell  us  now  what  you  think  of  banks,  and  mills,  and  factories, 
and  counting-houses,  and  marble  palaces,  and  presidential  banquets.  They 
stagger  forth  and  lean  against  the  cold  slab  of  the  tomb,  mouthing  with  tooth- 
less gums  and  gesticulating  with  fleshless  hands  and  shivering  with  the  chill 
of  sepulchral  dampness,  while  they  cry  out:     "Ashes!" 

I  must  call  up  now,  also,  a  group  of  sinful  pleasurists,  and  here  again  I 
will  not  take  the  testimony  of  those  who  had  the  more  ordinary  gratifications 
of  life.  Their  pleasures  are  pyramidal.  They  bloomed  paradisiacally.  If  they 
drank  wine,  it  must  be  the  best  that  was  ever  pressed  from  the  vineyards  of 
Hockheimer.  If  they  listened  to  music,  it  must  be  costliest  opera,  with 
renowned  prima  donna.  If  they  sinned,  they  chased  polished  uucleannesses 
and  graceful  despair  and  glittering  damnation.  Stand  up,  Alcibiades,  and 
Aaron  Burr,  and  Lord  Byron,  and  Queen  Elizabeth — what  think  you  now  of 
midnight  revel,  and  sinful  carnival,  and  damask  curtained  abomination  ? 
Answer !  The  color  goes  out  of  the  cheek,  the  dregs  serpent-twisted  in  the 
bottom  of  the  wine  cup,  the  bright  lights  quenched  in  blackness  of  darkness, 
they  jingle  together  the  broken  glasses,  and  rend  the  faded  silks,  and  shut  the 
door  of  the  deserted  banqueting-hall,  while  they  cry:    "A  wasted  life." 

A   WASTED    LIFE. 

There  are  a  great  many  who  try  to  feed  their  soul  on  infidelity  mixed 
with  truth.  They  say  the  Bible  has  good  things  in  it,  but  it  is  not  inspired. 
They  say  Christ  was  a  good  man,  but  He  was  not  inspired,  and  their  religion 
is  made  up  of  ten  degrees  of  humanitarianism,  and  ten  degrees  of  transcen- 
dentalism, and  ten  degrees  of  egotism  with  one  degree  of  gospel  truth,  and  on 
a  poor,  miserable  cud  they  make  their  immortal  soul  chew,  while  the  meadows 
of  God's  word  are  green  and  luxuriant  with  well-watered  pastures.  Did  you 
ever  see  a  happy  infidel  ?  Did  you  ever  meet  a  placid  skeptic  ?  Did  you  ever 
find  a  contented  atheist  ?  Not  one.  From  the  days  of  Gibbon  and  Voltaire 
down,  not  one.  They  quarrel  about  God.  They  quarrel  about  the  Bible. 
They  quarrel  about  each  other.  They  quarrel  with  themselves.  They  take 
all  the  divine  teachings  and  gather  them  together,  and  under  them  they  put 
the  fires  of  their  own  wit,  and  scorn,  and  sarcasm,  and  then  they  dance  in  the 
light  of  that  blaze,  and  they  scratch  amid  the  rubbish  for  something  with 
which  to  help  them  in  the  days  of  trouble,  and  something  to  comfort  them  in 
the  days  of  death,  finding   for   their   distraught   and    destroyed   souls,  nothing.- 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


53i 


Voltaire  declared:  "This  globe  seems  to  me  more  like  a  collection  of  carcasses 
than  of  men.  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born."  Hume  says  :  "I  am  like  a  man 
who  has  run  on  rocks  and  quicksands,  and  yet  I  contemplate  .putting  out  on 
the  sea  in  the  same  leaky  and  weather-beaten  craft."  Chesterfield  says :  "  I 
have  been  behind  the  scenes,  and  I  have  noticed  the  clumsy  pulleys  and  the 
dirty  ropes  by  which  all  the  scene  is  managed,  and  I  have  seen  and  smelt 
the  tallow  candles  which  throw  the  illumination  on  the  stage,  and  I  am  tired 
and  sick."  Get  up,  then, 
Francis  Newport,  and 
Hume,  and  Voltaire,  and 
Tom  Paine,  and  all  the  in- 
fidels who  have  passed  out 
of  this  world  into  the 
eternal  world — get  up  now 
and  tell  what  you  think  of 
all  your  grandiloquent  de- 
rision at  our  holy  religion. 
What  do  you  think  now 
of  all  your  sarcasm  at  holy 
things  ?  They  come  shriek- 
ing up  from  the  lost  world 
to  the  graveyards  where 
their  bodies  were  entombed, 
and  point  down  to  the  white 
dust  of  dissolution,  and  cry : 
■"A  wasted  life." 

Oh,  what  a  mistake  for 
an  immortal  soul.  What 
is  that  unrest  that  some- 
times comes  across  you? 
Why  is  it  that,  surrounded 
by  friends,  and  even  the 
luxuries  of  life,  you  wish 
you  were  somewhere  else, 
or  had  something  you  have 
not  yet  gained?  The  world  calls  it  ambition.  The  physicians  call  it  ner- 
vousness. Your  friends  call  it  the  fidgets.  I  call  it  hunger — deep,  grind- 
ing, unappeasable  hunger.  It  starts  with  us  when  we  are  born,  and  goes 
on  with  us  until  the  Lord  God  Himself  appeases  it.  It  is  seeking  and  delving, 
and  striving,  and  planning  to  get  something  we  cannot  get.  Wealth  sa)'S : 
"It  is  not  in  me."  Science  says:  "It  is  not  in  me."  Worldly  applause  says: 
"It  is,  not  in  me."  Sinful  indulgence  says:  "It  is  n5t  in  me."  Where  then 
is  it  ?     On  the  banks  of  what  stream  ?     Slumbering  in   what   grotto  ?     March- 


THE  TREE  IS  KNOWN  BY  ITS  FRUITS. 


532  THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

ing  in  what  contest  ?     Expiring    on   what   pillow  ?     Tell    me,  for   this    winged 
and  immortal  spirit,  is  there  nothing? 

In  communion  with  God,  and  everlasting  trust  of  Him,  is  complete  satis- 
faction. Solomon  described  it  when  he  compared  it  to  cedar  houses,  and 
golden  chairs,  and  bounding  reindeer,  and  day-break,  and  imperial  couch ;  to 
saffron,  to  calamus,  to  white  teeth,  and  hands  heavy  with  gold  rings,  and 
towers  of  ivory  and  ornamental  figures ;  but  Christ  calls  it  bread !  O  famished 
yet  immortal  soul,  why  not  come  and  get  it  ?  Until  our  sins  are  pardoned, 
there  is  no  rest.  We  know  not  at  what  moment  the  hounds  may  bay  at  us. 
We  are  in  a  castle  and  know  not  what  hour  it  may  be  besieged :  but  when 
the  soothing  voice  of  Christ  comes  across  our  perturbation,  it  is  hushed 
forever. 

HELP   COMETH   NOT   FROM   THIS   WORLD. 

A  merchant  in  Antwerp  loaned  Charles  V.  a  vast  sum  of  money,  taking 
for  it  a  bond.  One  day  this  Antwerp  merchant  invited  Charles  V.  to  dine 
with  him,  and  while  they  were  seated  at  the  table,  in  the  presence  of  the 
guests,  the  merchant  had  a  fire  built  on  a  platter  in  the  centre  of  the  table. 
Then  he  took  the  bond  which  the  king  had  given  him  for  the  vast  sum  of 
money,  and  held  it  in  the  blaze  until  it  was  consumed-,  and  the  king  congratu- 
lated himself,  and  all  the  guests  congratulated  the  king.  There  was  gone  at 
last  the  final  evidence  of  his  indebtedness.  Mortgaged  to  God,  we  owe  a  debt 
we  can  never  pay ;  but  God  invites  us  to  the  gospel  feast,  and  in  the  fires  of 
crucifixion  agony  He  puts  the  last  record  of  our  indebtedness,  and  it  is  con- 
sumed forever.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  the  dying  thief  expiring  in  dark 
despair,  with  the  judgment  to  come  staring  him  in  the  face,  and  the  terrors 
of  hell  laying  hold  of  his  soul.  He  had  faith  in  the  Crucified  One,  and  his 
faith  won  for  him  an  immediate  entrance  into  Paradise. 

Oh,  to  have  all  the  sins  of  our  past  forgiven,  and  to  have  all  possible 
security  for  the  future — is  not  that  enough  to  make  a  man  happy  ?  What 
makes  that  old  Christian  so  placid  ?  Most  of  his  family  lie  in  the  village 
cemetery.  His  health  is  undermined.  His  cough  will  not  let  him  sleep  at 
night.  From  the  day  he  came  to  town  and  he  was  a  clerk,  until  this  the  day 
of  his  old  age,  it  has  been  a  hard  fight  for  bread.  Yet  how  happy  he  looks. 
Why  ?  It  is  because  he  feels  that  the  same  God  who  watched  him  when  he 
lay  in  his  mother's  arms  is  watching  him  in  the  time  of  old  age,  and  unto 
God  he  has  committed  all  his  dead,  expecting  after  a  while  to  see  them  again. 
He  has  no  anxiety  whether  he  go  this  summer  or  next  summer — whether  he  be 
carried  out  through  the  snowbanks  or  through  the  daisies.  Like  a  faithful  watch- 
dog facing  the  cutting  winds  and  snows  of  winter,  as  he  stands  beside  a  lost 
and  freezing  child,  calling  with  the  voice  of  pity  for  help,  but  will  not  abandon 
his  charge.  So  waits  honored  old  age,  with  face  bared  to  the  storms  of  this 
earth,  faithful  to  his  Creator,  and  sounding  the  watch-cry  for  lost  sinners. 
Fifty  years  ago  he  learned    that    all    this  world    could    give  was  ashes,    and    he 


THB  FAITHFUL  SERVANT. 


(533) 


534  THE   PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

reached  up  and  took  the  fruits  of  eternal  life.  You  see  his  face  is  very 
white  now.  The  crimson  currents  of  life  seem  to  have  departed  from  it ;  but 
under  that  extreme  whiteness  of  the  old  man's  face  is  the  flash  of  the  day-break. 
There  is  only  one  word  in  all  our  language  that  can  describe  his  feelings, 
and  that  is  the  word  that  slipped  off  the  angel's  harp  above  Bethlehem — peace ! 
And  so  there  are  hundreds  of  souls  who  have  felt  this  Almighty  comfort. 
Their  reputation  was  pursued ;  their  health  shattered ;  their  home  was  almost 
if  not  quite  broken  up ;  their  fortune  gone.  Why  do  they  not  sit  down  and 
give  it  up.  Ah,  they  have  no  disposition  to  do  that.  They  are  saying  while 
I  speak :  "  It  is  my  Father  that  mixes  this  bitter  cup,  and  I  will  cheerfully 
drink  it.  Everything  will  be  explained  after  a  while.  I  shall  not  always  be 
under  the  harrow.  There  is  something  that  makes  me  think  I  am  almost 
home.  God  will  yet  wipe  away  all  tears  from  my  eyes."  So  say  these  bereft 
parents.     So  say  these  motherless  children.     So  say  a  great  many  others. 

THE   END   OF   THE   WORLD. 

Now,  am  I  not  right  in  trying  to  persuade  all  to  give  up  ashes,  and  take 
bread,  to  give  up  the  unsatisfactory  things  of  this  world,  and  take  the  glorious 
things  of  God  and  eternity  ?  Why,  if  you  kept  this  world  as  long  as  it  lasts, 
you  would  have,  after  a  while,  to  give  it  up.  There  will  be  a  great  fire  break- 
ing out  from  the  sides  of  the  hills ;  there  will  be  falling  flame  and  ascending 
flame,  and  in  it  the  earth  will  be  whelmed.  Fires  burning  from  within,  out ; 
fires  burning  from  above,  down ;  this  earth  will  be  a  furnace,  and  then  it  will 
be  a  living  coal,  and  then  it  will  be  an  expiring  ember,  and  the  thick  clouds 
of  smoke  will  lessen  and  lessen  until  there  will  be  only  a  faint  vapor  curling 
up  from  the  ruins,  and  then  the  very  last  spark  of  the  earth  will  go  out.  And 
I  see  two  angels  meeting  each  other  over  the  gray  pile,  and  as  one  flits  past  it, 
he  cries :  "  Ashes ! "  and  the  other,  as  he  sweeps  down  the  immensity,  will  re- 
spond :  "Ashes ! "  while  all  the  infinite  space  will  echo  and  re-echo :  "Ashes ! 
Ashes !    Ashes ! "     God  forbid  that  we  should  choose  such  a  mean  portion. 

My  fear  is,  not  that  you  will  not  see  the  superiority  of  Christ  to  this 
world,  but  my  fear  is,  that  through  some  dreadful  infatuation,  you  will  rele- 
gate to  the  future  that  which  God  and  angels,  and  churches  militant  and 
triumphant  declare  that  you  ought  to  do  now.  I  do  not  say  that  you  will  go 
out  of  this  world  by  the  stroke  of  a  horse's  hoof,  or  that  you  will  fall  through 
a  hatchway,  or  that  a  plank  may  slip  from  an  insecure  scaffolding  and  dash 
your  life  out,  or  that  a  bolt  may  fall  on  you  from  an  August  thunder-storm ; 
but  I  do  say  that,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  your  departure  from  the  world 
will  be  wonderfully  quick ;  and  I  want  you  to  start  on  the  right  road  before 
that  crisis  arrives. 

A  Spaniard,  in  a  burst  of  temper,  slew  a  Moor.  Then  the  Spaniard 
leaped  over  a  high  wall  and  met  a  gardener,  and  told  him  the  whole  story ; 
and  the  gardener  said:    "I  will   make    a    pledge    of  confidence  with    you.     Eat 


HOME,  AT  JCAST. 


(535) 


536 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


this  peach  and  that  will  be  a  pledge  that  I  will  be  your  protector  to  the  last." 
But,  oh,  the  sorrow  and  surprise  of  the  gardener  when  he  found  out  that  it 
was  his  own  son  that  had  been  slain !  Then  he  came  to  the  Spaniard  and 
said  to  him :  "  You  were  cruel,  you  ought  to  die,  you  slew  my  son,  and  yet  I 
took  a  pledge  with  you,  and  I  must  keep  my  promise ;  and  so  he  took  the 
Spaniard  to  the  stables  and  brought  out  the  swiftest  horse.  The  Spaniard 
sprang  upon  it  and  put  many  miles  between  him  and  the  scene  of  crime,  and 
perfect  escape  was  effected. 

We  have,  by  our  sins,  slain  the  Son  of  God.  Is  there  any  possibility  of 
our  rescue  ?  Oh !  yes.  God  the  Father  says  to  us :  "  You  had  no  business, 
by  your  sin,  to  slay  My  Son,  Jesus ;  you  ought  to  die,  but  I  have  promised 
you  deliverance.  I  have  made  you  the  promise  of  eternal  life,  and  you  shall 
have  it.  Escape  now  for  thy  life."  And  now  I  act  merely  as  the  Lord's 
groom,  and  I  bring  you  out  to  the  King's  stables,  and  I  tell  you  to  be  quick 
and  mount,  and  away.  In  this  plain  you  perish,  but  housed  in  God  you  live. 
O  you  pursued  and  almost  overtaken  one,  put  on  more  speed.  Fly !  Fly ! 
lest  the  black  horse  outrun  the  white  horse,  and  the  battle-axe  shiver  the  hel- 
met and  crash  down  through  the  insufficient  mail.  In  this  tremendous  exi- 
gency of  your  immortal  spirit  beware,  lest  you  prefer  ashes  to  bread. 


J5mall  2Tf)mgs. 

TRIFLING   INCIDENTS   PRODUCE    MIGHTY   RESULTS,   AND 
MAKE  THE   HEROES  AND  HEROINES  OF  EARTH. 

AMASCUS  is   a   city   of  white  and   glistening   archi- 
tecture, sometimes  called  the  "eye  of  the  East;" 
sometimes  called  "  a  pearl    surrounded   by  em- 
eralds;" at   one   time  distinguished  for  swords 
of  the    best    material  called    Damascus    blades, 
and    upholstery  of  richest    fabrics    called   dam- 
asks.     A    horseman    by    the    name    of    Saul, 
riding  toward  this  city,  had  been  thrown  from 
the  saddle.     The    horse    had    dropped  under    a 
flash  from    the    sky,  which    at    the    same  time 
was  so  bright  it    blinded    the    rider    for  many   days,  and,    I 
think,  so  permanently  injured  his  eyesight  that  this  defect 
of   vision    became    the    thorn    in    the    flesh    he    afterwards 
speaks  of.     He  started  for  Damascus  to  butcher  Christians, 
but  after  that  hard  fall  from    his  horse    he    was  a  changed 
man  and    preached    Christ    in    Damascus    till    the  city  was 
shaken  to  its   foundations. 

The    mayor    gives    authority    for    his    arrest,    and    the 
popular  cry  is  :    "  Kill  him  !     Kill  him  !  " 

The  city  is  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  and  the  gates 
are  watched  by  the  police  lest  the  Cilician  preacher  escape.  Many  of  the 
houses  are  built  on  the  wall,  and  their  balconies  project  clear  over  and 
hover  above  the  gardens  outside.  It  was  customary  to  lower  baskets  out  of 
these  balconies,  and  pull  up  fruits  and  flowers  from  the  gardens.  To  this 
day  visitors  at  the  monastery  of  Mount  Sinai  are  lifted  and  let  down  in 
baskets.  Detectives  prowl  around  from  house  to  house  looking  for  Paul,  but 
his  friends  hid  him,  now  in  one  place,  now  in  another.  He  is  no  coward,  as 
fifty  incidents  in  his  life  demonstrate.  But  he  feels  his  work  is  not  done  yet, 
and  so  he  evades  assassination. 

"Is  that  preacher  here?"    the  foaming  mob  shout  at  one  house-door,     "Is 
that  fanatic  here?"    the  police  shout  at  another  house-door. 

EVADING   THE   MOB. 

Sometimes  on  the  street  incognito  he  passes  through  a   crowd   of  clinched 
fists  and  sometimes  he  secretes    himself  on    the   house-top.     At    last    the    infu- 

,537) 


538  THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 

riated  populace  get  on  sure  track  of  him.  They  have  positive  evidence  that 
he  is  in  the  house  of  one  of  the  Christians,  the  balcony  of  whose  home  reaches 
over  the  wall. 

"  Here  he  is !     Here  he  is  !  " 

The  vociferation,  and  blasphemy,  and  howling  of  the  pursuers  are  at  the 
front  door.     They  break  in. 

"  Fetch  out  that  gospelizer  and  let  us  hang  his  head  on  the  city  gate. 
Where  is  he?" 

The  emergency  was  terrible.  Providentially  there  was  a  good  stout  basket 
in  the  house.  Paul's  friends  fasten  a  rope  to  the  basket.  Paul  steps  iuto  it. 
The  basket  is  lifted  to  the  edge  of  the  balcony  on  the  wall,  and  then,  while 
Paul  holds  on  to  the  rope  with  both  hands,  his  friends  lower  away,  carefully 
and  cautiously,  slowly  but  surely,  further  down  and  further  down,  until  the 
basket  strikes  the  earth  and  the  apostle  steps  out,  and  afoot  and  alone  starts 
on  that  famous  missionary  tour,  the  story  of  which  has  astonished  earth  and 
heaven.  Appropriate  entry  in  Paul's  diary  of  travels :  "  Through  a  window  in 
a  basket  was  I  let  down  by  the  wall." 

Did  ever  ship  of  many  thousand  tons,  crossing  the  see,  have  such  an 
important  passenger  as  had  once  a  boat  of  leaves ;  from  taffrail  to  stern  only  three 
or  four  feet,  the  vessel  made  waterproof  by  a  coat  of  bitumen,  and  floating  on 
the  Nile  with  the  infant  law-giver  of  the  Jews  on  board  ?  What  if  some 
crocodile  should  crunch  it  ?  What  if  some  of  the  cattle  wading  in  for  a  drink 
should  sink  it?  Vessels  of  war  sometimes  carry  forty  guns,  looking  through 
the  port-holes,  ready  to  open  battle.  But  that  tiny  craft  on  the  Nile  seems  tO' 
be  armed  with  all  the  guns  of  thunder  that  bombarded  Sinai  at  the  law-giving. 
On  how  fragile  a  craft  sailed,  how  much  of  historical  importance ! 

AN   INCIDENT   IN  JOHN   WESLEY'S   LIFE. 

The  parsonage  at  Epworth,  England,  is  on  fire  in  the  night,  and  the 
father  rushed  through  the  hallway  for  the  rescue  of  his  children.  Seven 
children  are  out  and  safe  on  the  ground,  but  one  remains  in  the  consuming 
building.  That  one  wakes,  and  finding  his  bed  on  fire  and  the  building 
crumbling,  comes  to  the  window,  and  two  peasants  make  a  ladder  of  their 
bodies,  one  peasant  standing  on  the  shoulder  of  the  other,  and  down  the 
human  ladder  the  boy  descends — John  Wesley. 

If  you  would  know  how  much  depended  on  that  ladder  of  peasants  ask  the 
millions  of  Methodists  on  both  sides  of  the  sea.  Ask  their  mission  stations  all 
round  the  world.  Ask  their  hundreds  of  thousands  already  ascended  to  join 
their  founder,  who  would  have  perished  but  for  the  living  stairs  of  peasants' 
shoulders. 

An  English  ship  stopped  at  Pitcairn  Island,  and  right  in  the  midst  of 
surrounding  cannibalism  and  squalor  the  passengers  discovered  a  Christian 
colony  of  churches  and  schools  and  beautiful   homes,  and  the  highest  style  of 


(539) 


54o 


THE  PATHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


religion  and  civilization.  For  fifty  years  no  missionary  and  no  Christian  influ- 
ence had  landed  there.  Why  this  oasis  of  light  amid  a  desert  of  heathendom  ? 
Sixty  years  before  a  ship  had  met  disaster,  and  one  of  the  sailors,  unable  to 
save  anything  else,  went  to  his  trunk  and  took  out  a  Bible  which  his  mother 
had  placed  there,  and  swam  ashore,  the  Bible  held  in  his  teeth.     The  book  was 

read  on    all  sides  un- 
til  the  rough    and 
vicious     population 
were  evangelized,  and 
a  church  was  started, 
and     an     enlightened 
commonwealth    estab- 
lished, and  the  world's 
history  has    no    more 
brilliant  page  than  that 
which  tells  of  the  trans- 
formation of  a  nation 
by  one  book.     It  did 
not  seem  of  much  im- 
portance whether  the  sailor  continued  to  hold  the  book 
in    his    teeth  or    let  it    fall    in    the  breakers,  but  upon 
what  small  circumstance  depended  what  mighty  results  ! 
Practical  inference  :     There  are    no  insignificances  in 
our  lives.     The  most  minute  thing  is  part  of  a  magni- 
tude.    Infinity  is  made  up  of  infinitesimals.     Great  things 
an    aggregation    of    small    things.     Bethlehem    manger 
pulling   on    a    star    in  the    eastern    sky.     One  book  in 
a  drenched  sailor's  mouth  the  evangelization  of  a  mul- 
titude.    One  boat  of  papyrus  on  the  Nile  freighted  with 
events    for   all    ages.     The    fate    of   Christendom    in    a 
basket  let  down  from  a  window  on  the  wall.     The  song 
of  a  Miriam  rejoicing  over  the  triumph  of  the  Lord  that 
echoes  down  the  ages. 

What  you  do,  do  well.  If  you  make  a  rope  make  it 
strong  and  true,  for  you  know  not  how  much  may 
depend  on  your  workmanship.  If  you  fashion  a  boat,  let  it  be  waterproof,  for 
you  know  not  who  may  sail  in  it.  If  you  put  a  Bible  in  the  trunk  of  your 
boy  as  he  goes  from  home,  let  it  be  placed  there  with  your  prayers,  for  it  may 
have  a  mission  as  far-reaching  as  the  book  which  the  sailor  carried  in  his  teeth 
to  the  Pitcairn  beach.  The  plainest  man's  life  is  an  island  between  two  eter- 
nities— eternity  past  rippling  against  his  shoulders,  eternity  to  come  touch- 
ing his  brow.  The  casual,  the  accidental,  that  which  merely  happened  so, 
are  parts  of  a  great  plan,  and  the  rope  that  lets  the  fugitive .  apostle  from  the 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  541 

Damascus  wall    is    the  cable   that  holds  to  its  mooring  the  ship  of   the  Church 
in  the  northeast  storm  of  the  centuries. 

IN  A   STORM   A'.    SEA. 

Once  for  thirty-six  hours  we  expected  every  moment  to  go  to  the  bottom 
of  the  ocean.  The  waves  struck  through  the  skylights  and  rushed  down  into 
the  hold  of  the  ship  and  hissed  against  the  boilers.  It  was  an  awful  time,  but 
by  the  blessing  of  God  and  the  faithfulness  of  the  men  in  charge  we  came  out 
of  the  cyclone  and  we  arrived  at  home.  Each  one  before  leaving  the  ship 
thanked  Captain  Andrews.  I  do  not  think  there  was  a  man  or  woman  that 
went  off  that  ship  without  thanking  Captain  Andrews,  and  when  years  after  I 
heard  of  his  death  I  was  impelled  to  write  a  letter  of  condolence  to  his  family 
in  Liverpool.  Everybody  recognized  the  goodness,  the  courage,  the  kindness  of 
Captain  Andrews,  but  it  occurs  to  me  now  that  we  never  thanked. the  engineer. 
He  stood  away  down  in  the  darkness  amid  the  hissing  furnaces  doing  his 
whole  duty.  Nobody  thanked  the  engineer,  but  God  recognized  his  heroism 
and  his  continuance  and  his  fidelity,  and  there  will  be  just  as  high  reward 
for  the  engineer,  who  worked  out  of  sight,  as  for  the  captain  who  stood  on  the 
bridge  of  the  ship  in  the  midst  of  the  howling  tempest. 

There  are  said  to  be  about  69,000  ministers  of  religion  in  this  country. 
About  50,000  I  warrant  came  from  early  homes  which  had  to  struggle  for  the 
necessaries  of  life.  The  sons  of  rich  bankers  and  merchants  generally  become 
bankers  and  merchants.  The  most  of  those  who  become  ministers  are  the  sons 
of  those  who  had  terrific  struggle  to  get  their  every-day  bread.  The  collegiate 
and  theological  education  of  that  son  took  every  luxury  from  the  parental 
table  for  eight  years.  The  other  children  were  more  scantily  apparelled.  The 
son  at  college  every  little  while  got  a  bundle  from  home.  In  it  were  the  socks 
that  mother  had  knit,  sitting  up  late  at  night,  her  sight  not  as  good  as  once 
it  was.  And  there  also  were  some  delicacies  from  the  sister's  hand  for  the 
voracious  appetite  of  a  hungry  student.  The  father  swung  the  heavy  cradle 
\hrough  the  wheat,  the  sweat  rolling  from  his  chin  bedewing  every  step  of  the 
way,  and  then  sitting  down  under  the  cherry  tree  at  noon  thinking  to  him- 
self: "I  am  fearfully  tired,  but  it  will  pay  if  I  can  once  see  that  boy  through 
college  and  if  I  can  know  that  he  will  be  preaching  the  gospel  after  I  am 
dead."      Another  John,  in  the  desert  and  wilderness  of  sin. 

The  younger  children  want  to  know  why  they  can't  have  this  and  that,  as 
others  do,  and  the  mother  says :  "  Be  patient,  my  children,  until  your  brother 
graduates,  and  then  you  shall  have  more  luxuries,  but  we  must  see  that  boy 
through." 

SUCCESS    AT    LAST. 

The  years  go  by  and  the  son  has  been  ordained  and  is  preaching  the 
glorious  gospel,  and  a  great  revival  comes,  and  souls  by  scores  and  hundreds 
accept  the  gospel  from  the  lips  of  that  young  preacher,  and  father  and  mother, 


542 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE. 


quite  old  now,  are  visiting  the  son  at  the  village  parsonage,  and  at  the  close 
of  a  Sabbath  of  mighty  blessing,  father  and  mother  retire  to  their  room,  the 
son  lighting  the  way  and  asking  them  if  he  can  do  anything  to  make  them 
more  comfortable,  saying  if  they  want  anything  in  the  night  just  to  knock  on 


the  young  hopefui,. — Prom  a  Painting  by  Prof.  Montegazza. 

the  wall.  And  then,  all  alone,  father  and  mother  talk  over  the  gracious  influ- 
ences of  the  day  and  say:  "Well,  it  was  worth  all  we  went  through  to  educate 
that  boy.  It  was  a  hard  pull,  but  we  held  on  till  the  work  was  done.  Tl  e 
world  may  not  know  it,  but,  mother,  we  held  the  rope,  didn't  we?" 


THE   PATHWAY   OF  LIFE.  543 

And  the  voice,  tremulous  with  joyful  emotion,  responded :  "  Yes,  father,  we 
held  the  rope.  I  feel  my  work  is  done.  Now,  Lord,  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in   peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation." 

"Pshaw!"  says  the  father,  "I  never  felt  so  much  like  living  in  my  life  as 
aow.  I  want  to  see  what  that  fellow  is  going  on  to  do,  he  has  begun  so  well." 
Something  occurs  to  me  quite  personal.  I  was  the  youngest  of  a  large  family 
of  children.  My  parents  were  neither  rich  nor  poor;  four  of  the  sons  wanted 
collegiate  education,  and  four  obtained  it,  but  not  without  great  home-struggle. 
We  never  heard  the  old  people  say  once  that  they  were  denying  themselves 
to  effect  this,  but  I  remember  now  that  my  parents  always  looked  tired.  I 
think  they  never  got  rested  till  they  lay  down  in  the  Somerville  Cemetery. 
Mother  would  sit  down  in  the  evening  and  say:  "Well,  I  don't  know  what 
makes  me  feel  so  tired." 

Father  would  fall  immediately  to  sleep,  seated  in  the  old  wood  rocking-chair, 
overcome  with  the  day's  fatigues.  One  of  the  four  brothers,  after  preaching  the 
gospel  for  about  fifty  years,  entered  upon  his  heavenly  rest.  Another  of  the 
four  is  now  on  the  other  side  the  earth,  a  missionary  of  the  cross.  Two  of  us 
are  in  this  laud  in  the  holy  ministry,  and  I  think  all  of  us  are  willing  to 
acknowledge  our  obligation  to  the  old  folks  at  home.  About  twenty-one  years 
ago  the  one,  and  about  twenty-three  years  ago  the  other,  put  down  the  burdens 
}f  this  life,  but  they  still  hold  the  rope. 

NOTHING   INSIGNIFICANT. 

Henceforth  think  of  nothing  as  insignificant.  A  little  thing  may  decide 
your  all.  A  Cuuarder  put  out  from  England  for  New  York.  It  was  well 
equipped,  but  in  putting  up  a  stove  in  the  pilot  box  a  nail  was  driven  too  near 
the  compass.  You  know  how  that  nail  would  affect  the  compass.  The  ship'c 
officer,  deceived  by  that  distracted  compass,  put  the  ship  200  miles  off  her  right 
course,  and  suddenly  the  man  on  the  lookout  cried :  "  Land  ho !"  and  the  ship 
was  halted  within  a  few  yards  of  her  demolition  on  Nantucket  shoals.  A  six- 
penny nail  came  near  wrecking  a  Cunarder.  Small  ropes  hold  mighty 
destinies. 

A  minister  seated  in  Boston  at  his  table,  lacking  a  word,  puts  his  hand 
behind  his  head  and  tilts  back  his  chair  to  think,  and  the  ceiling  falls  and 
crushes  the  table,  and  would  have  crushed  him.  A  minister  in  Jamaica  at 
night,  by  the  light  of  an  insect  called  the  candle-fly,  is  kept  from  stepping 
over  a  precipice  100  feet.  F.  W.  Robertson,  the  celebrated  English  clergyman, 
said  that  he  entered  the  ministry  from  a  train  of  circumstances  started  by  the 
barking  of  a  dog.  Had  the  wind  blown  one  way  on  a  certain  day,  the  Spanish 
Inquisition  would  have  been  established  in  England  ;  but  it  blew  the  other  way, 
and  that  dropped  the  accursed  institution,  with  75,000  tons  of  shipping,  to  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  or  flung  the  splintered  logs  on  the  rocks. 

Nothing  unimportant  in  your  life  or   mine.     Three  naughts    placed  on  the 


544 


THE   PATHWAY   OF   LIFE. 


right  side  of  the  figure  one  make  a  thousand,  and  six  naughts  on  the  right 
side  of  the  figure  one  a  million,  and  our  nothingness  placed  on  the  right  side 
may  be  augmentation  illimitable.  All  the  ages  of  time  and  eternity  affected  by 
the  basket  let  down  from  a  Damascus  balcony. 

And  now,  dear 
reader,  we  know  of 
no  better  conclusion 
to  this  volume  than 
the  prayer  of  the 
Apostle  Paul,  when 
he  says:  "I  bow  my 
knees  unto  the  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  of  whom  the 
whole  f  a  m  i  1  y  in 
heaven  and  earth  is 
named,  that  He  would 
grant  you,  according 
to  the  riches  of  His 
glory,  to  be  strength- 
ened with  might  by 
His  Spirit  in  the  inner 
man;  that  Christ  may 
dwell  in  your  hearts 
by  faith;  that  ye, 
being  rooted  and 
grounded  in  love,  may 
be  able  to  compre- 
hend with  all  saints 
what  is  the  breadth, 
and  length,and  depth, 
and  height;  and  to 
know  the  love  of 
Christ,  which  passeth 
knowledge,  that  ye 
might  be  filled  with 
all  the  fulness  of 
God.  .  .  .  Unto 
Him  be  glory  in  the 
church  by  Christ 
Jesus  throughout  all 
ages,  world  without 
end.     Amen." 


• 

\\ . 

■  c^s  j 

\                    ■ 

In 

/  ' 

GOOD-NIGHT. 


Note. — In  presenting  the  following  pages,  descriptive  of  the  colored  plates  and  engravings 
contained  in  this  book,  the  publishers  desire  to  say  that  the  addition  has  been  made  at  consid- 
erable expense,  but  that  they  feel  more  than  compensated  by  the  satisfaction  it  will  give  the 
purchasers  of  the  work.  Many  of  the  pictures  relate  to  historical  incidents  not  fully  set  forth  in 
the  text,  and  which  deserve  to  be  handled  more  fully  ;  others  describe  celebrated  paintings  and 
statuary,  the  beauties  of  which  do  not  appear  to  the  casual  observer  (some  can,  indeed,  be  studied 
a  number  of  times,  each  examination  developing  features  before  unnoticed),  but  which  may  be 
seen  more  clearly  after  reading  the  descriptions.  The  page  on  which  each  picture  may  be  found 
is  indicated  at  the  beginning  of  the  paragraph  describing  it.  Each  engraving  should  be  carefully 
studied  at  the  time  the  description  is  read,  in  order  to  understand  thoroughly  the  thought  intended 
to  be  conveyed,  as  well  as  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  skill  of  the  artist  or  sculptor  in  its  execution. 


The  World's  Sorrows  Laid  at  Jesus'  Feet.  {Colored  Plate}) — What  a 
grand  conception,  what  a  masterly  array  of  scenic  effect  !  Surely  the  hand  of 
an  angel  guided  the  artist's  touch  and  enabled  him  to  depict  in  such  a  striking 
manner  the  many  trials  with  which  "The  Pathway  of  Life"  abounds.  When  a 
grief  comes,  when  the  heart  is  torn  with  a  mighty  sorrow,  when  the  whole 
world  seems  shrouded  in  a  gray  mist  of  despair,  and  the  sympathy  of  friends 
only  opens  wider  the  rent  in  the  bleeding  heart,  then  the  weary  soul  turns  to 
Christ  and  we  drop  on  our  knees  and  cry,  "  Lord,  let  Thy  hand  support,  Thy 
arm  sustain."  Have  you  been  called  upon  to  part  with  a  child,  your  first-bornT 
the  one  that  you  loved  better  than  life  itself?  Have  you  lost  a  wife,  or  a 
husband,  without  whom  the  fragrance  of  life  seemed  lost  forever  ?  If  so,  this 
picture  must  appeal  to  the  tenderest  memories  that  your  heart  knows.  When 
we  can  smooth  .  the  dying  pillow  of  wife  or  husband,  bathe  the  heated  brow 
and  moisten  the  feverish  lips  with  cool  water,  even  then  Death  finds  us  rebellious 
at  his  coming ;  but  when  a  husband  is  slain  in  battle  and  brought  home 
mangled  and  blood-stained  to  the  family  which  he  left  a  few  short  hours 
before,  full  of  life  and  strength  and  confident  of  victor}*,  then  it  is  that  the 
stroke  falls  like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky,  and  nothing  but  an  abiding 
faith  in  the  One  that  works  all  things  well  can  reconcile  us  to  what  seems  a 
cruel  and  wanton  bereavement.  In  this  picture  w-e  read  a  lesson  of  patience 
and  hope  which  makes  it  easier  to  bear  the  cares  and    sorrows  of  life. 

Nero's  Persecution  of  the  Christians.  {Colored  Plate}) — The  soul  is 
filled  with  horror  when  we  contemplate  the  atrocious  barbarity  displayed  by 
Nero  in  his  persecution  of  the  Christians.  No  other  character  in  the  history 
of  the  world  is  so  justly  abhorred.  It  was  during  his  reign  that  Christ  was 
crucified.  How  strange  that  a  picture  like  this,  resplendent  with  bright  colors 
and  so  graceful  in  its  outlines,  should  represent  so  much  suffering,  and  such 
wanton    cruelty.      Around    a   race-course    are    seen    men,    women    and    children 

35  (545) 


546  APPENDIX. 

chained  to  posts,  their  lower  limbs  wrapped  in  straw  smeared  in  tar,  where  they 
are  burned  for  the  amusement  of  the  heartless  Romans.  In  the  centre  is  a  gray- 
headed  follower  of  the  Saviour,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  kneeling  Christians. 
Their  doom  is  certain,  but  they  do  not  flinch.  There  is  no  pleading  for  mercy, 
no  wild  frenzy  of  despair.  They  feel  that  a  glorious  reward  awaits  them,  and 
that  to  die  such  a  death  is  the  greatest  privilege  accorded  to  the  followers  of 
Christ.  For  His  sake  they  suffer  these  things.  Already  the  half-starved  beasts 
of  prey  are  entering  the  amphitheatre ;  a  huge  lion  pauses  and  sniffs  the  air 
before  the  fatal  spring ;  behind  him,  crowded  onward  by  his  hungry  followers,  is 
that  most  terrible  of  all  animals,  the  tiger.  Thank  God,  we  are  spared  the 
necessity  of  witnessing  what  follows.  How  thankful  we  should  be  that  in  our 
day  and  time  such  spectacles  are  impossible.  Christianity  was  then  in  its  infancy 
and  struggling  for  existence.  Nero  and  his  court  employed  all  the  terrors  of 
the  jungle  and  exercised  the  most  devilish  ingenuity  in  devising  tortures  in 
order  to  prevent  the  spread  of  Christianity ;  but  the  little  germ  has  increased 
and  multiplied,  until  its  influence  extends  around  the  globe,  and  has  raised  a 
bulwark  of  charity  and  justice  and  tolerance  that  renders  the  humblest  wor- 
shipper more  secure  at  his  family  altar  than  was  Nero  surrounded  by  his  legions 
of  armed  soldiers. 

Jesus  the  Healer  of  all  Ills.  {Colored  Plate.) — A  beautiful  picture,  illus- 
trating the  tender  compassion  which  the  Saviour  ever  had  for  the  sick,  the 
fatherless,  and  the  helpless.  The  incident,  so  grandly  treated  by  the  artist, 
occurred  at  one  of  the  gates  of  Jerusalem.  A  young  Jewish  widow,  unable  to  find 
employment  in  her  native  village,  wanders  to  the  holy  city,  taking  her  little  one 
with  her.  On  the  way  it  is  taken  ill.  All  day  she  has  listened  to  its  pitiful 
wail,  unable  to  do  anything  for  its  relief,  as  her  means  have  been  exhausted 
with  the  long  journey  and  she  has  nothing  wherewith  to  purchase  medicine. 
With  a  mother's  anxiety  she  notes  the  progress  of  the-  fever  which  rages 
through  the  throbbing  veins.  The  little  eyes,  which  have  smiled  upon  her 
with  the  thousand  witching  expressions  of  childish  love,  merriment  and  roguish- 
ness,  are  now  bright  with  the  fire  of  the  delirium,  and  the  pretty  lips,  so  often 
raised  for  the  ever- ready  kiss  of  maternal  love,  are  now  tremulous  with  suffering. 
With  despairing  eyes  and  breaking  heart  she  watches  the  breath  grow  fainter 
and  fainter,  and  her  soul  calls  out  in  agony  to  the  all-merciful  Father  to  give 
her  strength  to  bear  her  trouble.  Her  cry  is  not  in  vain.  It  reaches  the  ear 
of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Great  Physician,  whose  healing  balm  alone  can  restore 
the  bleeding  heart  and  crushed  soul.  He  has  wandered  outside  the  city  in  the 
cool  of  the  evening  for  an  hour's  silent  communion  with  His  heavenly  Father. 
His  soul  responds  to  the  first  cry  of  distress,  and  in  a  moment  He  is  beside 
the  little  sufferer.  As  the  mother  gazes  on  the  calm,  beautiful  and  sympathetic 
face  of  Jesus,  a  great  peace  fills  her  soul.  Instinctively  she  looks  to  Him, 
though  a  stranger,  for  the  aid  she  has  sought  in  vain.  Tenderly  the  Master's 
hand  is  laid  upon  the  unconscious  babe,  and  what  a  wonderful  change  takes 
place.  The  pulse  once  more  bounds  with  life  and  health,  the  sunken  cheeks 
regain  their  accustomed  roundness  as  if  by  magic,  and  glow  again  with  the 
bloom  of  health.  What  joy  for  the  mother  !  What  a  different  aspect  everything 
has  for  her.  The  air,  so  stifling  a  few  moments  ago,  now  seems  refreshing, 
and  her  heart  swells  with  gratitude  as  she  realizes  the  miracle  wrought  for  her 


APPENDIX.  547 

benefit.  Although  penniless  and  a  stranger  in  a  strange  city,  she  has  no  fear 
for  the  future.  For  has  not  God  defended  her,  and  cannot  she  call  to  Him 
again  for  help  ?  Thus  it  is  with  the  Christian.  No  matter  how  great  the 
affliction,  how  keen  the  anguish  or  how  overwhelming  the  disgrace  which  our 
sins  have  brought  upon  us,  the  hand  of  a  loving  and  pitying  Saviour  is 
extended  to  buoy  us  up  and  carry  us  through  the  da1"1  waters,  if  we  will  only 
speak  His  name  and  cast  our  burden  at  His  feet. 

The  Cross  of  Prayer.  {Colored  Plate.) — The  Lord's  prayer  is  beautifully 
set  forth  in  this  magnificent  allegorical  cross,  executed  in  the  richest  colors 
known  to  art.  At  the  bottom  we  see  a  devout  Christian  family  kneeling  in 
prayer  to  "  Our  Father  Which  art  in  Heaven."  They  have  begun  life  aright. 
No  matter  how  their  bark  may  be  tossed  on  the  stormy  sea,  they  will  in  the  end 
find  a  haven  of  peace  and  rest.  Just  above  this  a  young  mother  kneels  with 
her  children  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  thus  teaching  them  early  lessons  of  obedience 
and  trust.  The  Saviour's  hands  are  outstretched  to  bless  them,  while  a  dove, 
emblematic  of  innocence,  ascends  towards  heaven.  At  the  top  of  the  page  is  the 
next  sentence  of  the  prayer,  showing  a  Christian  family  into  which  the  Angel  of 
Death  has  come,  taking  two  of  the  little  ones  to  heaven,  where  they  watch 
with  tender  love  the  devotions  of  the  dear  ones  left  behind.  "  Thy  Will  be 
Done  on  Earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven."  At  the  left  of  the  cross,  the  prayer  for 
daily  bread  is  answered  by  a  heavenly  messenger.  At  the  right  is  beautifully 
illustrated  the  prayer,  "  Forgive  us  our  Trespasses  as  we  Forgive  those  who 
Trespass  against  us."  An  Angel  stands  with  open  book  and  blots  out  from  the 
heavenly  record  entries  of  sin  and  trespasses  that  appear  against  us,  in  pro- 
portion as  we  forgive  those  who  have  wronged  us.  What  a  beautiful  lesson  is 
herein  contained.  The  greater  the  number  of  trespasses  against  us  by  our 
fellow-men,  the  greater  our  claim  for  consideration  and  pardon,  when  our  own 
record  is  open  before  us  at  the  final  judgment,  if  we  have  freely  forgiven  those 
who  have  sinned  against  us.  But  most  impressive  of  all  is  the  central  illustra- 
tion, representing  the  final  appeal  for  deliverance  from  evil.  When  lured  by 
the  temper  and  ready  to  fall,  if  we  but  call  on  Christ  for  aid,  how  ready  are 
His  hands  to  snatch  us  from  evil,  and  how  quickly  He  will  dispatch  an  angel 
Avith  a  flaming  sword  to  hurl  the  wicked  one  to  the  spirits  of  darkness,  whose 
hands  are  extended  to  receive  him.  Thus  we  learn  that  Christ  alone  is  able 
to  sustain  us  when  beset  by  the  temptations  thrown  about  our  pathway  by  the 
emissaries  of  Satan,  and  that  the  only  way  of  escape  is  to  cling  to  His  strong 
arm  for  protection. 

Christ  on  Calvary.  {Colored  Plate.) — Mihail  Munkacsy,  the  celebrated 
French  artist,  was  born  at  Muncaco  in  1846.  He  has  executed  a  large  number 
of  fine  paintings,  most  of  them  selling  for  from  $3000  to  $8000.  His  most 
celebrated  productions  are  "  Christ  before  Pilate  "  and  "  Christ  on  Calvary,"  both 
of  which  were  purchased  by  Mr.  John  Wanamaker,  a  Philadelphia  merchant, 
at  a  cost  of  over  $100,000  each.  Munkacsy  resides  at  Paris,  and  his  pictures 
command  a  ready  sale.  His  "  Last  Days  of  Mozart "  was  purchased  by  R.  A. 
Alger,  of  Detroit,  for  $50,000.  He  presented  it  to  the  Detroit  Museum.  Un- 
doubtedly his  greatest  work  is  "  Christ  on  Calvary."  It  is  an  immense  picture, 
nineteen  feet  in  height  by  twenty-five  feet  in  length,  and  represents  the  scene  at 


548  APPENDIX. 

the  crucifixion,  where  Christ  has  just  expired.  The  sky  is  black  and  illuminated 
with  lightning.  The  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  departing  crowd,  fleeing  with 
terror  from  the  awful  scene,  indicates  the  conviction  that  has  forced  itself  upon  them 
that  they  have  indeed  slain  the  Son  of  God.  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  kneels  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross  and  presses  her  hands  upon  His  feet  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief. 
Her  sister  kneels  near  the  left  and  covers  her  face  with  her  hands  to  shut  out 
the  dreadful  sight ;  while  Mary  Magdalene,  every  lineament  of  her  face  betray- 
ing the  storm  of  grief  and  despair  which  sweeps  over  her  soul,  turns  her  eyes 
towards  the  crucified  Saviour  with  unspeakable  pity,  as  if  she  would  lift  Him  from 
the  cross  and  comfort  Him  in  His  agony.  In  front  of  the  cross  stands  Judas, 
whose  attitude  betrays  his  full  consciousness  of  the  horrible  crime  he  has  com- 
mitted. The  figures  are  striking,  perhaps  none  more  remarkable  than  that  of  the 
Centurion,  who  stands  somewhat  in  the  background,  his  hands  outstretched  and 
his  eyes  turned  toward  the  cross.  He  was  the  first  convert  to  Christianity 
after  the  crucifixion,  and  the  picture  represents  him  at  the  moment  of  his  con- 
version, when  he  exclaimed,  "  Surely  this  was  a  righteous  man."  What  wonder 
that  the  sun  hid  its  face,  that  the  earth  shook,  and  that  the  dead  came  forth 
from  their  graves.  It  was  fitting  that  the  heaven  should  put  on  mourning, 
and  that  the  earth  should  groan  in  sympathy. 

The  Pathway  of  Life.  [Colored  Plate?) — A  sweet  picture,  that  appeals 
strongly  to  the  best  sentiments  of  the  human  heart.  A  bright  little  boy  stands 
upon  the  threshold  of  life  with  foot  uplifted  and  hand  outstretched,  ready  to 
begin  the  journey,  and  happy  in  anticipation  of  the  beautiful  and  wonderful 
things  he  expects  to  see.  To  him  all  is  bright  and  promising ;  no  thought  of 
evil  crosses  his  mind ;  his  imagination  clothes  everything  with  rainbow  hues. 
He  does  not  know  that  every  rose  has  its  thorn,  every  pleasure  its  corresponding 
grief.  With  such  an  enchanting  prospect  before  him,  he  is  eager  to  be  off. 
But  the  path  is  narrow,  and  on  either  side  are  yawning  precipices,  rushing  tor- 
rents, seething  whirlpools,  and  bottomless  quicksands,  which  threaten  to  engulf 
him  at  every  step ;  while  numerous  and  enticing  by-paths  seek  to  lure  him  from 
the  narrow  way  that  alone  leads  to  safety  and  honor.  But  a  good  angel  points  out 
the  snares  and  pitfalls  that  threaten  his  destruction  ;  the  counsels  of  a  Christian 
mother  have  taken  root  in  his  heart,  and  her  saint-like  face  will  go  before  him 
on  his  journey,  a  guiding  star  whose  gleam  cannot  be  extinguished,  no  matter 
how  hard  the  storms  of  temptation  may  beat  upon  him.  Oh,  that  all  mothers 
could  realize  the  importance  of  this  safeguard,  so  easily  reared  in  youth,  when 
the  heart  is  innocent  and  the  mind  ready  to  receive  impressions.  The  influence 
of  a  mother's  tender  love  will  make  itself  felt  long  after  she  is  in  her  grave. 
Even  though  a  child  may  for  a  time  forsake  the  paths  of  virtue,  the  recollection 
of  a  mother's  gentle  love  will  often  serve  to  turn  the  erring  feet  in  the  right 
direction. 

A  Gentle  Wafting  to  Immortal  Life.  (Page  22.) — This  illustration  is  a 
reproduction  of  Mr.  Miller's  masterpiece  of  marble  sculpture,  one  of  the  finest 
pieces  in  the  world.  The  subject  and  execution  is  of  exceeding  beauty,  repre- 
senting, as  it  does,  a  child's  voyage  across  the  deep  waters  of  death  into  the 
bright  harbor  of  celestial  light  and  love.  The  sentiment  is  one  that  touches, 
as  with  fingers  of  moving  sorrow,  every  bereaved  heart  and  brings  tears  to  the 


APPENDIX.  549 

eyes  of  mothers  and  fathers  out  of  whose  bosoms  God  has  plucked  the  fairest 
flowers  of  babyhood  for  a  transplanting  in  the  eternal  gardens.  How  the  bark 
moves  on  bearing  its  precious  cargo  of  an  innocent  soul ;  how  the  sail  fills 
with  the  whispering  winds  and  sweet  perfumes  that  blow  towards  the  land  of 
sunshine  that  lies  behind  the  mountain  of  the  hereafter.  How  sweetly  sleeps 
the  little  babe,  soul-conscious  of  the  delightful  journey  that  draws  toward  an 
end,  so  rapturous  the  welcome  music  of  heavenly  choristers  floating  across  the 
still  waters  and  wafted  back  again  like  echoes  striking  between  the  shores  of 
earth  and  heaven.  The  eyes  that  sparkled  with  light  and  love  are  closed  for- 
ever, the  prattling  lips  are  silent,  and  the  little  hands  are  folded  upon  the 
breast  that  throbs  no  more  in  response  to  the  cares  of  affection.  A  broken- 
hearted mother  has  placed  a  lily  in  the  little  waxen  fingers,  because  her  dar- 
ling loved  flowers,  and  a  mother's  anguish  has  bathed  the  little  silent  face  with 
burning  tears  of  hopeless  grief.  But  how  different  would  be  her  feelings  if  she 
could  look  upward  with  spiritual  vision  and  see  her  little  one  entering  upon 
the  life  immortal.  The  light  of  heaveu  shines  down  upon  the  beautiful  face, 
and  angel's  wings  seem  to  fan  the  curling  locks  as  the  new-born  soul 
takes  its  flight  toward  its  celestial  home.  The  little  eyes  are  opened  wide  in 
wonder  at  the  beautiful  things  that  are  coming  into  view,  while  the  soul  thrills 
with  delight  at  the  sounds  of  sweet  music  and  tender  voices  of  loving  angels. 
Earth  is  lost,  but  heaven  is  gained,  and  when  the  stricken  mother  shall  have 
reached  the  end  of  her  earthly  pilgrimage,  soft  little  hands  will  reach  down 
and  help  her  over  the  dark  river,  and  her  first  view  of  heaven  will  be  the 
bright  little  face  that  she  loved  so  well  on  earth,  made  glorious  in  the  light 
of  a  Saviour's  love. 

Mary  Anointing  the  Feet  of  Jesus.  (Page  32.) — Peter  Paul  Reubens  was 
a  Flemish  painter,  born  at  Siegen.  Germany,  June  29th,  1577;  died  in  Antwerp, 
May  30th,  1640.  In  1608  he  was  appointed  Court  painter  by  the  archduke  at 
Antwerp.  In  1620  he  was  commissioned  by  Maria  de  Medici  to  decorate  the 
galleries  of  the  Luxembourg  Palace  with  paintings  representing  events  in  her 
career.  While  engaged  in  this  work  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  who  purchased  his  entire  collection  of  works  of  art  for  100,000 
florins.  He  lived  in  an  elegant  mansion,  and  his  prestige  as  a  courtier  and 
artist  brought  to-  his  studio  people  from  all  parts  of  Europe.  He  was  a  hard 
worker,  and  the  paintings  executed  by  himself,  in  whole  or  in  part,  amounted  to 
about  1800.  Estimating  the  number  of  years  he  was  engaged  in  the  work,  he  must 
have  turned  out  about  one  each  week.  His  posthumous  collection  of  works  of 
art,  including  319  pictures,  is  said  to  have  produced  ^25,000.  His  works  com- 
prise history,  portraits,  landscapes,  animals,  fruit  and  flower  pieces.  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  says  that  "  lions  and  horses  were  perhaps  never  properly  represented 
except  by  him."  His  delineations  of  animal  life  were  always  vigorous.  The 
great  merit  of  his  representations  of  the  human  form  was  probably  due  to  the 
fact  that  he  did  not  attempt  to  idealize,  but  alwaj^s  took  living  women  for  his 
Madonnas,  Magdalenes  and  female  saints.  In  this  picture  Reubens  has  given 
us  a  forcible  representation  of  the  scene  at  the  table  in  Bethany,  when  Mary, 
the  sister  of  Lazarus,  anointed  the  Saviour's  feet  with  ointment  of  spikenard 
and  wiped  them  with  her  hair.  How  strongly  the  expression  of  each  counte- 
nance is  marked.     Judas  is  grieved  over  the  loss  of  the  money  which  the  oint- 


550  APPENDIX. 

ment  would  have  brought  if  sold,  and  disapprobation  is  shown  on  every  face, 
save  that  of  Christ,  who  says,  "  Let  her  alone ;  against  the  day  of  my  burying 
hath  she  kept  this." 

Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms.  (Page  35.) — Martin  Luther  was  the  leader 
of  the  German  Reformation.  Educated  at  Erfurt,  he  was  early  impressed  with 
the  vanity  of  the  world  and  entered  the  Augustinian  Convent  at  that  place. 
He  subjected  himself  to  the  most  rigid  penances  and  mortifications  of  the  flesh, 
thus  seriously  undermining  his  health.  For  the  first  time  having  access  to  com- 
plete copies  of  the  Scriptures,  he  read  them  eagerly,  and  here  was  born  Lutheran 
Protestantism  and  the  evangelical  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  without  the 
works  of  the  law.  Boldly  attacking  and  denouncing  the  errors  and  corruptions 
of  the  church,  he  called  down  upon  himself  the  Papal  bull  of  excommunication, 
which  he  promptly  submitted  to  the  flames,  uttering  his  famous  words,  "  As 
thou  hast  troubled  the  holy  one  of  the  Lord,  may  the  eternal  fire  trouble  and 
consume  thee."  Then  came  the  summons  by  the  German  Emperor,  Charles 
V.,  before  the  Diet  of  Worms.  This  picture  represents  the  undaunted  bearing  of 
Luther  on  that  memorable  occasion.  The  fate  of  the  Protestant  religion  then  hung 
in  the  balance.  Would  Luther  falter  and  the  cause  be  lost,  or  postponed  indefi- 
nitely? His  life  was  in  danger,  and  to  speak  his  mind  seemed  like  uttering 
his  own  death  sentence.  Few  expected  him  to  escape  with  his  life.  Confronted 
with  the  brilliant  assemblage  of  the  Emperor,  the  princes  and  nobility  of  the  empire, 
the  dignitaries  of  the  church  and  an  immense  concourse  of  spectators,  his  life 
hanging  upon  a  thread,  and  a  full  recantation  being  demanded,  nothing  but 
divine  inspiration  could  have  nerved  him  for  the  trial  and  enabled  him  to  make 
his  famous  declaration,  "  Unless  I  shall  be  refuted  and  convinced  by  testimonies 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures  I  cannot  and  will  not  recant  anything,  since  I  believe 
neither  the  Pope  nor  the  Councils,  both  having  often  erred  and  contradicted 
themselves."  Thank  God,  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  was  safe.  The  Diet,  awed 
by  his  eloquence  and  unable  to  answer  his  arguments,  and  fearing  the  wrath  of 
the  people,  who  were  thoroughly  aroused,  allowed  the  dauntless  man  to  escape. 

A  Victim  to  Unrequited  Love.  (Page  37.) — A  picture  that  speaks  more 
eloquently  than  volumes,  of  the  awful  consequences  of  trifling  with  the  affec- 
tions of  one  who  seeks  a  lady's  hand.  After  months,  perhaps  years,  of 
alternating  hope  and  fear;  at  one  moment  raised  to  a  perfect  heaven  of  bliss 
by  the  smiles  of  the  sweet  enchantress,  and  the  next  plunged  into  maddening 
uncertainty  by  her  indifference,  possibly  with  a  rival  more  favored  by  fortune 
and  who  seems  to  make  greater  progress  in  the  conquest  of  the  lady's  heart, 
the  youth  rushes  madly  from  her  presence,  with  ominous  mutterings  on  his  lips 
and  a  wild  look  in  his  eye  that  drives  the  blood  from  her  heart  and  makes 
her  faint  with  terror.  What  would  she  give  if  he  would  return  and  recall  the 
hasty  words  he  has  uttered.  She  mentally  acknowledges  that  she  is  in  the  wrong, 
and  for  a  moment  contemplates  following  him  and  making  amends  for  past 
caprices.  But  no,  she  will  not  humble  herself.  He  is  heated  now  with  anger; 
but  when  he  has  had  time  to  reflect,  he  will  be  sorry  and  come  back  again 
with  an  apology  on  his  lips  and  crave  her  pardon,  making  himself  more  than 
ever  her  slave.  She  enjoys  the  contemplation  of  his  humility,  and  pictures  to 
herself   the    satisfaction    she  will .  have   in    standing  before  him  in   the  role  of 


APPENDIX.  551 

injured  innocence,  listening  to  his  abject  apologies  and  explanations,  coupled 
with  promises  of  future  devotion.  But  hours  pass  by  and  he  does  not  return. 
The  sun  sinks  to  rest  in  the  darkened  west,  and  rises  in  splendor  on  the  morrow ; 
but  it  does  not  herald  his  coming.  Annoyance  gives  way  to  misgiving  and  she 
becomes  restless.  Will  he  never  come  again  ?  Something  terrible  must  have 
happened,  or  he  would  never  stay  away  so  long.  Every  moment  she  finds 
herself  at  the  window,  looking  down  the  path  which  he  has  so  often  trod.  At 
last,  she  can  stand  the  strain  no  longer,  and  a  note  is  dispatched  to  his  home 
by  a  trusty  messenger,  who  returns  with  the  startling  information  that  he  has 
not  been  there  for  two  days.  What  terrible  misgivings  now  fill  her  heart.  She 
no  longer  tries  to  conceal  the  interest  she  has  in  him,  but  with  tearful  eyes 
pleads  with  her  parents  and  friends  that  search  may  be  made  immediately. 
She  even  leads  the  party  that  is  quickly  raised.  Evening  draws  on  and  still 
no  trace  of  the  missing  lover.  She  pauses  in  the  leafy  forest,  her  brain  reeling 
with  despair.  Suddenly  she  remembers  that  she  has  not  been  to  the  falls — 
their  old  trysting  place — where  once,  in  a  passion,  he  threatened  to  throw  him- 
self into  the  raging  waters.  She  turns  her  horse  and  hastens  to  the  spot. 
With  trembling  hand  she  reins  her  steed  by  the  water's  edge  and  gazes  about 
her.  What  makes  her  eyes  dilate  and  causes  her  to  clutch  convulsively  at  the 
saddle  ?  A  hat  lies  on  the  ground,  its  black  plume  trailing  in  the  rushing 
water.  In  a  moment  her  horse's  hoofs  clatter  over  the  rocks,  as  she  descends 
below  the  falls.  But  the  way  is  rocky,  and  presently  horse  and  rider  can 
proceed  110  further.  .  She  dismounts  and  clambers  over  the  slippery  stones, 
bruising  her  hands  and  soiling  her  garments  ;  the  briars  tear  her  arms  and  face, 
and  catch  in  her  hair,  but  she  is  not  conscious  of  pain.  She  mounts  a  huge 
rock,  and  there  before  her  is  the  object  of  her  search,  lying  at  full  length 
between  the  broken  masses  of  stone,  his  face  white  and  set,  his  fair  hair  washed 
by  the  restless  water,  which  ripples  and  purls  and  murmurs  as  it  sings  its  way 
to  the  sea. 

Death  of  Miss  Langdon.  (Page  40.) — Letitia  Elizabeth  Langdon  was  an 
English  authoress,  born  in  Old  Brompton,  a  suburb  of  London,  in  1802.  She 
began  to  write  at  the  age  of  thirteen  and  soon  became  a  general  contributor  to  the 
"Literary  Gazette."  For  fifteen  years  she  was  a  very  prolific  writer  and  supported 
her  family  by  her  pen.  She  published  six  poetical  works,  also  four  novels.  In  Jan- 
uary, 1838,  she  was  married  to  George  Maclean,  Governor  of  Cape  Coast  Castle, 
in  West  Africa,  and  soon  afterward  sailed  with  him  to  her  new  home.  In  a  few 
months  after  her  arrival  there  she  died  from  an  overdose  of  prussic  acid,  which 
she  was  accustomed  to  take  in  small  quantities  for  hysteric  affections,  and  was 
discovered  lying  dead  upon  the  floor  of  her  chamber.  The  publishers  make 
this  explanation  as  there  seems  to  be  a  division  of  opinion  as  to  the  statement 
that  she  committed  suicide.  The  author  speaks  of  her  as  Miss  Langdon,  as 
her  reputation  was  gained  while  writing  under  that  name,  and  before  her  marriage. 

The  Angel's  Whisper.  (Page  45.) — A  noble  piece  of  statuary  in  the  Vati- 
can at  Rome,  the  sculptor  nameless ;  but  the  work  of  his  hands  has  caused 
many  a  thoughtless  person  to  pause  and  gaze  with  tender  heart  and  moistening 
eyes.  In  the  soul  of  every  observer  is  awakened  thoughts  of  the  dreamy  past, 
when  he  was  an  innocent  child    rocked   in   his  cradle  by  a  patient   and   gentle 


552  APPENDIX. 

mother,  who  has  long  since  passed  away.  Sweet  memories,  vows  and  broken 
promises,  all  come  rushing  back  ixpon  him  as  he  views  the  marvellous  work  of 
the  artist's  trained  hand.  What  is  the  angel  saying  to  the  sleeping  little  one  ? 
Is  it  a  message  from  fairy  land,  or  a  reminder  of*  the  counsels  imparted  before 
leaving  the  heavenly  laboratory  ?  Perhaps  the  celestial  visitor  whispers  of  temp- 
tations that  are  near  and  snares  skilfully  laid  by  Satan  to  entangle  the  little 
feet ;  or  maybe  she  is  filling  the  young  soul  with  dreams  of  future  great- 
ness among  men,  or  striving  to  inspire  consecration  to  the  Master,  as  she 
causes  to  pass  before  the  dreamy  eyes  visions  of  '  future  labors  in  missionary 
fields.  At  any  rate  we  may  be  sure  that  the  words  uttered  are  for  the  good  of 
the  little  dreamer. 

Night's  Swift  Dragons  Cut  the  Clouds  Full  Fast.  (Page  50.)— John 
Graham  Lough,  English  sculptor,  born  at  Greenhead,  Northumberland,  in  1804, 
died  July  9th,  1876.  He  was  the  son  of  a  small  farmer  and  taught  himself 
drawing  and  modelling.  He  afterwards  studied  in  Italy.  Among  his  most 
famous  works  are  a  bas-relief  of  "The  Death  of  Turnus,"  and  a  model  of  the 
colossal  statue  of  Milo,  executed  in  marble  for  the  Duke  of  Wellington ;  also 
statues  of  Queen  Victoria  and  Prince  Albert.  In  this  magnificent  and  inimit- 
able creation  of  genius  he  has  represented  Night  as  a  beautiful  mother,  her 
eyes  half  closed  in  slumber,  resting  upon  the  backs  of  two  swift-moving  dragons. 
On  her  arm  reclines  an  infant,  its  senses,  too,  wrapped  in  balmy  sleep.  Her 
steeds  are  controlled  and  guided  by  an  angel.  She  is  descending  to  hold 
her  nightly  court  on  earth,  the  sun  reluctantly  retiring  before  her.  As  we  look,  the 
shadows  deepen,  the  stars  peep  out  one  by  one,  and  the  new  moon  rises  in  the 
East ;  the  nightingale  tunes  his  voice  in  the  shadowy  trees  ;  the  voices  of  ani- 
mate nature,  silent  through  the  heated  hours  of  the  day,  break  forth  in  sweet 
cadences  that  throb  and  pulsate  on  the  grateful  ear  in  a  thousand  indescribable 
yet  harmonious  sounds.  Listen,  and  you  may  hear  the  soft  notes  of  the  cuckoo, 
the  shrill  rasp  of  the  katydid,  the  faint  drone  of  the  beetle,  the  merry  notes  of 
the  cricket,  and  the  harsh  croak  of  the  marsh-frog,  followed  by  countless  sounds 
familiar  to  us  from  infancy,  yet  which  the  most  experienced  rustic  or  scholarly 
savant  would  be  unable  to  associate  with  the  insects,  birds  or  reptiles  producing 
them.  The  air  is  redolent  with  the  perfume  of  flowers;  every  breeze  wafts  the 
sweetness  to  our  trembling  senses,  and  we  dririk  in  deep  inspirations  of  pure 
delicious  air  which  our  lungs  know  not  in  the  sultry  hours  of"  the  day.  How 
we  welcome  the  Goddess  of  Night  and  pay  homage  at  her  royal  throne.  Her 
laws  are  few  and  simple;  obeyed,  they  bring  health,  happiness  and  long  life; 
neglected,  sickness,  suffering  and  death. 

America.  (Page  52.) — John  Bell,  the  designer  of  this  beautiful  piece  of 
statuary,  English  sculptor  and  author,  born  in  Norfolk,  1800.  He  designed  and 
executed  statues  of  Lord  Falkland  and  Sir  Robert  Walpole  for  the  new  House  of 
Parliament;  also  the  Wellington  Monument  for  Guildhall.  His  best  known  artistic 
works  are  "  The  Eagle  Slayer,"  "  Dorothea,"  "  The  Babes  in  the  Wood,"  and  "An- 
dromeda." He  was  awarded  a  medal  by  the  Society  of  Arts  in  1856.  He  was  noted 
for  his  originality,  departing  entirely  from  the  stereotyped  lines  followed  by  other 
artists.  He  published  several  works.  Probably  his  most  famous  piece  of  statuary 
is  that  in  Hyde  Park,  known  as  "  The  United  States  Directing  the  Progress  of 


APPENDIX.  553 

America."  Each  figure  in  the  group  is  distinctively  American.  The  lordly 
buffalo,  which  roams  our  Western  plains  and  makes  the  earth  tremble  with  his 
mighty  tread,  is  symbolical  of  irresistible  power ;  the  wand  in  the  hands  of  the 
foremost  figure  indicates  that  "Westward  the  Star  of  Empire  Takes  Its  Way  ;"  on 
the  shield  borne  upon  the  arm  of  the  central  figure  is  seen  a  beaver,  typical  of 
industry  and  perseverance ;  while  the  eagle,  the  national  bird,  is  suggestive  of 
alertness,  keenness,  strength  and  the  ability  to  look  out  for  ourselves.  The  re- 
maining figure  in  the  group,  seated  on  a  bear-skin,  holds  in  his  hands  an  Indian 
club,  around  which  coils  a  rattlesnake — an  American  institution  about  which 
even  the  most  recent  and  rebellious  arrival  at  Castle  Garden  has  learned  and 
is  willing  to  leave  unmolested. 

Landing  of  the  Romans,  under  Caesar,  in  Britain,  B.  C.  55.  (Page 
54.) — This  illustration  gives  us  an  excellent  idea  of  the  condition  of  Britain  at 
the  time  of  the  Roman  invasion,  under  Caesar.  The  Romans  came  in  well- 
built  ships,  protected  by  shields  and  armed  with  short  swords  ;  while  the  Britons 
opposed  them,  half-naked  and  armed  with  clubs  and  stones.  But  little  is  known 
of  the  island  before  the  conquest  by  the  Romans,  as  the  people  were  ignorant 
and  uncivilized,  and  no  means  of  recording  events  were  known,  so  that  the  early 
history  of  Britain  comes  to  us  only  through  tradition. 

Michael  Hurling  Lucifer  out  of  Heaven.  (Page  58.) — A  noble  piece  of 
statuary,  executed  in  the  highest  style  of  art  and  showing  the  fearful  combat 
which  took  place  between  the  Archangel  Michael  and  Satan,  when  the  latter 
was  cast  into  the  bottomless  pit,  with  a  third  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  heaven, 
who  had  conspired  against  their  God. 

The  Last  Dream.  (Page  59.) — What  an  appropriate  design  for  a  monu- 
ment. It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  anything  more  exquisitely  beautiful. 
Rest,  which  comes  from  gentle  sleep,  invigorates  the  wearied  body,  refreshes  the 
fatigued  mind,  and  relaxes  the  overtaxed  nerves ;  so  the  artist  has  chosen  the 
attitude  of  sleep  to  illustrate  his  thought.  After  weeks  of  sickness  and  pain, 
the  tired  body  sinks  to  rest ;  the  eyes  closed  forever,  and,  with  the  Bible,  the 
solace  of  her  weary  hours  of  affliction,  pressed  fondly  to  her  bosom,  she  lies 
calmly  and  peacefully  dreaming.  Angels  hover  over  her,  their  faces  radiant  with 
joy,  whispering,  "Another  Death  on  Earth,  Another  Birth  in  Heaven !"  See, 
they  beckon  her  away,  pointing  upward  to  the  world  of  light  and  joy,  whose 
portals  are  open  to  receive  her. 

A  Portion  of  the  Ceiling  of  the  Sixtine  Chapel.  (Page  63.) — The  Six- 
tine  Chapel  is  a  part  of  the  Vatican  at  Rome,  the  palace  of  the  popes.  The 
Vatican  palace,  one  of  the  most  magnificent  in  the  world,  is  not  one  continuous 
building  but  has  grown  up  through  successive  ages  ;  only  a  small  portion  of 
the  present  edifice  was  built  before  1447.  The  renovation  of  the  old  palace, 
begun  by  Nicholas  V.,  was  completed  by  Alexander  VI.  in  1503.  The  whole 
palace  covers  a  space  of  1151  by  767  feet,  and  has  200  staircases,  20  courts, 
and  4422  rooms.  The  Sala  Regin,  or  grand  audience  hall  for  the  reception  of 
ambassadors,  was  built  by  Antonia  di  Sangallo.  The  Sixtine  Chapel  opens 
into  this  hall.     The  ceiling  is  magnificently  frescoed  by  Perugino,  Ghirlandaio, 


554  APPENDIX. 

and  others,  representing  passages  in  the  lives  of  Christ  and  Moses.  The  work 
is  grand,  and  countless  thousands  of  visitors  from  all  countries  of  the  globe 
have  gazed  in  speechless  admiration  at  the  wonderfully  executed  scenes.  The 
Garden  of  Eden ;  Eve  tempted  by  the  Serpent  and  in  turn  compassing  the  fall 
of  Adam ;  the  angel  driving  them  forth  weeping  and  penitent  from  their  beautiful 
Paradise — all  these  and  a  host  of  equally  engrossing  representations  cover  the 
ceiling  with  a  rainbow  of  color.  The  chapel  is  also  rich  in  paintings  from  the 
brushes  of  the  most  celebrated  masters,  among  them  Michael  Angelo's  first 
masterpiece  in  painting — "  The  Last  Judgment." 

Principal  Works  of  Christopher  "Wren,  with  St.  Paul's  Cathedral 
Rising  in  the  Background.  (Page  67.) — Sir  Christopher  Wren,  the  English 
architect,  born  at  East  Knoyle,  Wiltshire,  October  20th,  1632,  died  at  Hampton 
Court,  February  25th,  1723.  He  graduated  at  Oxford  in  1650.  He  made 
rapid  progress  as  an  inventor  and  scientist,  and  became  associated  with  a  body 
of  scientific  men  whose  meetings  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Royal  Society. 
He  designed  the  chapel  of  Pembroke  College,  Cambridge,  and  was  in  the  same 
year  commissioned  to  survey  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  with  a  view  of  restoring  or 
rebuilding  it,  so  as  to  adapt  the  whole  structure  to  the  celebrated  Corinthian 
portico  added  to  it  by  Inigo  Jones.  He  designed  and  erected  many  magnificent 
buildings,  the  first  in  importance  being  the  new  Cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  in  the 
form  of  a  Latin  cross.  Thirty-five  years  were  consumed  in  its  erection,  the 
last  stone  being  laid  June  21st,  1675.  The  interior  decoration  designed  by  him 
was  not  completed  until  within  the  last  ten  years.  He  designed  fifty-three 
churches  in  London,  fifty  of  which  were  intended  to  replace  those  destroyed  by 
the  great  fire  in  1666.  His  works  include  the  Royal  Exchange,  the  Custom 
House,  the  Monument,  and  Temple  Bar,  all  in  London ;  the  hospitals  at  Green- 
wich and  Chelsea ;  extensive  additions  to  the  palace  of  St.  James  at  Hampton 
Court ;  the  west  front  and  towers  of  Westminster  Abbey ;  the  palace  at  Win- 
chester for  Charles  II. ;  the  gateway  tower  of  Christ  College,  Oxford,  and  the 
Shaldonian  Theatre  and  Ashmalean  Museum,  in  the  same  city ;  besides  various 
college  chapels  and  other  buildings  for  the  two  universities.  At  eighty-six 
years  of  age  he  was  removed  from  the  office  of  Surveyor  General  by  George 
I.,  a  position  which  he  had  held  for  forty-nine  years.  He  was  elected  president 
of  the  Royal  Society  in  1680,  and  appointed  Comptroller  of  the  works  in 
Windsor  Castle  in  1684.  He  was  knighted  by  Charles  II.,  at  Whitehall,  in 
1674,  and  for  many  years  represented  several  boroughs  in  Parliament.  He 
was  buried  in  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's  and  a  black  marble  slab  marks  his  tomb. 
The  engraving  gives  an  excellent  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  work  accom- 
plished by  this  wonderful  man. 

The  Parting.  (Page  73.) — An  illustration  representing  the  final  parting 
between  a  husband  and  wife;  it  is  one  of  the  saddest  scenes  in  human  ex- 
istence ;  either  would  prefer  death  to  this  unhappy  parting.  For  years  they 
have  lived  together  and  their  lives  have  been  blended  into  one,  so  that  the 
parting  is  like  the  severance  of  soul  and  spirit.  They  have  learned  by  bitter 
experience,  as  the  years  have  gone  by,  that  they  are  not  suited  to  one  another, 
and  finally,  in  a  moment  of  discord  or  passion,  the  silken  cord  has  broken  and 
they  separate  forever.     Let  us  hope  that  in  the  world  to  come,  when  they  can 


APPENDIX.  555 

see  things  plainer  than  they  do  in  this  life,  they  may  be  united  again  and 
happy  for  all  eternity ;  but  this  is  only  hope,  for  it  is  probable  that  unhappy 
marriages,  resulting  from  unsuited  dispositions,  will  not  result  in  union  or 
happiness  either  here  or  hereafter. 

Idleness.  (Page  79.) — This  picture  is  so  striking  that  it  seems  hardly  to 
need  comment.  We  are  all  more  or  less  familiar  with  the  character  which  it 
depicts — a  girl  whose  days  are  spent  in  idleness,  dreaming  of  things  that  can 
never  come  to  pass,  or  reading  unwholesome  books,  while  her  mother  toils  in 
the  kitchen.  Her  life  is  purposeless  ;  a  dead  weight  for  her  father  and  brothers 
to  carry  with  them ;  she  is  a  misery  to  herself  and  friends ;  she  is  shunned  by 
all  sensible  young  men,  and  finally  becomes  a  cross,  peevish,  irritable  old 
maid,  if  she  is  so  fortunate  to  escape  the  temptations  so  likely  to  ensnare  one 
whose  moral  senses  are  rendered  blunt  by  reading  the  questionable  exploits  of 
the  heroes  and  heroines  of  the  modern  novel — the  curse  of  our  homes  ;  the 
thing  that  ruins  more  young  men  and  young  women  than  all  other  evils  com- 
bined— the  foe  that  all  true  mothers  will  fight  more  uncompromisingly  than 
the  adder  itself.  The  listless  attitude  and  dreamy  eye  all  point  out  the  rock 
on  which  her  life  boat  bids  fair  to  go  to  pieces. 

Burns  and  Highland  Mary.  (Page  85.) — Robert  Burns,  the  nightingale 
of  poetry,  was  born  at  Ayr,  Scotland,  January  25th,  1759,  and  died  at  Dum- 
fries, July  21st,  1796.  .  His  parents  were  of  the  poorest  class,  but  succeeded  in 
giving  him  the  rudiments  of  education.  Every  moment  between  the  driving 
of  the  plough  and  other  farm  work  was  devoted  to  study.  His  library  was  limited, 
being  confined  to  the  Bible,  Mason's  "  Collection  of  Prose  and  Verse,"  "  The 
Life  of  Hannibal,"  and  the  history  of  Sir  William  Wallace.  Late  in  life  he  made 
the  attempt  to  learn  French  and  Latin,  but  was  unsuccessful.  He  was  a  poor 
farmer  and  unable  to  take  upon  himself  the  expense  of  a  family.  In  1786  he 
published  an  edition  of  his  poems,  600  copies.  He  at  once  sprang  into  popu- 
larity, went  to  Edinburgh,  and  for  a  year  was  feted  and  admired  by  persons 
of  rank.  He  returned  home  with  X5°°>  tne  Pr°ht  of  a  second  edition,  which 
he  issued  during  the  year.  He  at  once  married  Jean  Armour,  with  whom  he 
had  already  made  a  written  contract  of  marriage,  good  in  Scottish  law.  Sought 
for  by  people  of  all  classes,  he  was  dined  and  wined  until  he  established  habits  of 
intemperance,  which,  together  with  exposure  and  disappointment  of  his  hopes  of 
promotion,  undermined  his  constitution  and  he  died  in  his  37th  year.  During 
his  illness  his  house  was  thronged  with  people  of  rank,  and  his  funeral  was 
attended  by  a  great  multitude.  The  centenary  of  his  birthday,  in  1859,  was 
celebrated  in  almost  every  village  of  Scotland,  England,  the  United  States,  the 
British  colonies  and  India ;  and  the  anniversary  of  his  birth  is  celebrated  by 
Scotchmen  all  over  the  world.  The  poetry  of  Burns  is  unexcelled  in  pathos 
and  tender  passion,  and  stirs  up  the  deepest  and  purest  emotions  of  the  human 
heart.  "  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  the  sweetest  of  pastorals,  and  "  John 
Barleycorn,"  full  of  pathos  and  humor,  are  among  his  best  known  works.  He 
wrote  innumerable  love  songs,  some  of  them  the  finest  in  the  language,  all 
relating  to  real  heroines.  The  sculptor  has  given  us  a  splendid  representation 
of  Burns  and  Highland  Mary,  one  of  his  ideals  of  female  beauty. 


556  APPENDIX. 

Avarice  and  Love.  (Page  86.) — This  illustration  is  one  that  needs  a  care- 
ful study.  A  rich  and  avaricious  old  man  desires  to  wed  a  beautiful  young 
girl,  who  is  also  loved  by  a  handsome  young  man  who  possesses  but  little  of 
this  world's  goods.  She  has  in  her  hand  the  money-bag  of  the  old  miser,  but 
her  eyes  are  turned  toward  the  handsome  young  man  who  stands  in  the  back- 
ground. She  is  hesitating  what  she  shall  do.  Too  many  young  girls  have 
hesitated  just  like  her,  at  the  wrong  time.  The  wisest  thing  she  could  do 
would  be  to  throw  the  money  out  of  the  window,,  scorn  the  insulting  proposi- 
tions of  the  old  miser,  and  give  her  hand  where  her  heart  has  already  doubt- 
less been  bestowed.  If  she  should  decide  to  accept  gold  rather  than  love,  she 
will  make  the  greatest  mistake  in  her  life.  The  gold  would  soon  become 
valueless  in  her  eyes  and  she  would  long  for  love,  even  if  it  were  accompanied 
by  nothing  more  than  a  crust  of  bread.  The  only  way  in  which  riches  can 
be  truly  enjoyed  is  for  them  to  be  won  by  the  mutual  effort  of  husband  and  wife; 
then  they  have  a  common  interest  in  what  they  have  acquired  as  well  as  a  com- 
mon enjoyment.  Let  us  hope  that  this  beautiful  young  girl  discarded  the 
offer  of  the  old  miser,  and  that  she  and  her  true  lover  were  mated  and  went 
together  down  the  "  Pathway  of  Life,"  happy  themselves,  and  helping  to  make 
all  others  with  whom  they  associated  happy. 

The  Ducal  Palace.  (Page  90.) — The  artist  here  gives  us  a  glimpse  of 
the  splendor  surrounding  the  nobility  of  England.  Most  of  the  ducal  palaces 
are  situated  in  magnificent  grounds,  the  beauties  of  which  cannot  be  realized 
except  by  actual  observation.  But,  surrounded  as  they  are  with  everything 
that  the  imagination  can  conceive  or  art  devise  to  render  life  attractive,  the 
inmates  of  these  luxurious  homes  are  not  always  happy,  as  Dr.  Talmage  so 
truly  says  in  the  pages  of  this  book,  and  the  duchess  often  sighs  for  the  peaceful 
and  restful  home  of  the  peasant.  The  title  of  duke  is  synonymous  with  prince, 
and  is  the  highest  dignity  in  the  peerage.  The  duke  is  styled  "  His  Grace " 
and  "Our  Right  Trusty  and  Right  Entirely  Beloved  Cousin  and  Counsellor." 
The  best  known  duke  of  Great  Britain  at  present  is  the  Prince  of  Wales,  Duke 
of  Cornwall  and  of  Rothsay.  There  are  in  Great  Britain  now  twenty-one  Eng- 
lish, eight  Scottish  and  two  Irish  dukes. 

Cleopatra  Before  Caesar.  (Page  92.)— Jean  Leon  Gerome,  French  artist, 
born  in  Vesoul,  May  nth,  1824.  He  studied  in  Paris  and  obtained  several 
medals,  and  in  1855  received  the  decoration  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  One  of 
his  most  famous  works  is  "  The  Virgin,  The  Infant  Jesus  and  St.  John."  His 
masterpiece  is  "  The  Age  of  Augustus  and  the  Birth  of  Jesus  Christ."  One  of  his 
pictures,  "The  Gladiators,"  was  purchased  by  A.  T.  Stewart,  the  merchant  prince 
of  New  York,  for  80,000  francs.  "  Cleopatra  Brought  to  Caesar  in  a  Basket," 
is  one  of  his  best  works  and  is  given  here  for  its  historical  value.  She  was  the 
last  queen  of  Egypt.  She  inherited  the  throne  jointly  with  her  brother  Ptolemy, 
who  intrigued  against  her  and  she  was  driven  from  the  throne  at  Alexandria 
in  the  year  49.  Just  at  this  time  Caesar  landed  at  Alexandria  after  defeating 
Pompey.  He  was  well  aware  of  the  beauty  of  the  young  queen  and  perhaps 
prejudiced  in  her  favor,  at  least  he  took  her  brother  prisoner  and  proposed  to 
settle  the  dispute  between  them.  Cleopatra  disbanded  her  army  and  determined 
to  seek  Caesar  in  person.     An  attendant  wrapped  her  in  a  piece  of  carpet  and 


APPENDIX.  557 

brought  her  into  Caesar's  presence.  He  fell  in  love  with  her  at  sight,  and  she 
became  his  wife.  The  picture  represents  Cleopatra  as  she  appeared  before  Caesar 
for  the  first  time,  to  his  profound  amazement  and  admiration.  After  the  assassina- 
tion of  Caesar,  Mark  Antony  became  Cleopatra's  lover.  After  his  defeat  by 
Octavius  he  was  informed  that  Cleopatra  had  committed  suicide,  and  in  his  grief" 
he  endeavored  to  take  his  own  life.  Severely  wounded,  he  was  taken  to  Cleopatra 
and  died  in  her  arms.     She  then  placed  an  asp  in  her  own  bosom  and  expired. 

Jane  Waring  Receives  Notice  of  Dean  Swift's  Perfidy.  (Page  101.) — 
How  can  we  find  words  strong  enough  to  condemn  the  duplicity  and  treachery 
of  Dean  Swift  in  his  shameless  treatment  of  Jane  Waring  and  Hester  Van- 
bomright  ?  Swift's  friends  claim  Miss  Waring  declined  his  offer  of  marriage 
because  of  her  own  ill  health  and  Swift's  insufficient  income  ;  but  the  fact  of 
their  engagement  was  well  known.  Even  his  staunchest  defenders  do  not 
attempt  to  palliate  his  actions  towards  Miss  Vanbomright.  Although  secretly 
married  to  Esther  Johnson,  he  continued  his  attentions  to  Miss  Vanbomright, 
and  when  she,  harassed  and  driven  almost  to  distraction  by  the  statements 
coming  to  her  ears  regarding  Swift's  intimacy  with  Miss  Johnson,  wrote  to  the 
latter  for  information  as  to  the  nature  of  her  connection  with  Swift,  he  came 
into  her  presence  in  a  passion,  dashed  the  letter  on  the  table  and  departed 
without  a  word.  The  shock  was  such  that  she  died  within  a  few  weeks.  Thus 
the  great  English  prelate,  a  man  whose  life  was  supposed  to  be  devoted  to  the 
service  of  Christ,  wrought  untold  misery  to  one  trusting  heart,  and  broke 
another.  Although  absolutely  dictating  the  opinions  of  the  English  nation  and 
ranking  among  the  foremost  writers  and  thinkers  of  his  time,  his  conduct  in 
this  matter  brought  upon  him  the  just  censure  of  the  civilized  world. 

After  a  Divorce,  the  Stepmother.  (Page  103.) — How  eloquently  this 
picture  speaks  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place  in  the  family.  The  mother, 
whose  voice  has  for  many  years  sounded  daily  in  the  spacious  rooms  of  the 
old  home,  is  now  banished  from  the  presence  of  her  children,  who  are  assembled 
to  welcome  (?)  their  new  mother — she  who  has  alienated  the  affections  of  the 
father  and  caused  him  to  raise  an  insuperable  barrier  between  his  children  and 
the  mother  who  has  bore  them.  He  seems  all  unconscious  of  the  ruin  he  has 
wrought,  and  the  downcast,  humiliated  and  despondent  look  of  his  children  is 
unnoticed  as  he  basks  in  the  smiles  of  her  whose  face  should  blush  with  shame 
at  the  thought  of  entering  a  home  under  such  conditions.  The  elder  son,  his 
mother's  pride  and  joy,  pauses  obediently  before  the  usurper,  well  knowing  his 
father's  iron  will,  which  brooks  no  hesitation.  Behind  him  are  the  daughters, 
waiting  their  turn  to  be  presented  and  striving  bravely  to  look  a  welcome  which 
they  do  not  feel ;  how  their  hearts  ache  and  how  gladly  would  they  flee  from 
the  presence  of  their  father's  chosen  consort  as  from  a  pestilence.  The  younger 
brother,  not  so  experienced  in  deception  and  diplomacy,  turns  away  from  her 
instinctively  and  throws  his  arms  around  the  old  nurse's  neck,  who  strives  to 
re-assure  him  and  whispers  to  him  not  to  forget  to  greet  the  lady  as  "  Mamma ; " 
but  the  word  chokes  him,  and  he  glances  over  his  shoulder  in  an  appealing 
way  that  goes  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  beholder.  Dr.  Talmage's  denuncia- 
tion of  the  evils  of  divorce  is  none  too  strong,  backed  as  it  is  by  the  divine 
command,  "  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder." 


558  APPENDIX. 

Sick  and  Neglected.  (Page  106.) — Volumes  filled  with  the  richest  word- 
painting  of  the  literary  artist  could  not  more  feelingly  describe  the  depth  of 
misery  portrayed  in  this  illustration.  Sick  and  neglected,  the  mother  lies  on 
her  lowly  couch,  her  hands  clasped  feebly  around  the  neck  of  her  famishing 
boy,  who  gazes  intently  into  her  wan  face,  his  heart  almost  bursting  because 
of  his  helplessness  and  inability  to  render  her  aid ;  his  poor  gaunt  body  bears 
testimony  of  the  privation  and  suffering  through  which  he  has  passed.  Instinc- 
tively he  realizes  that  he  shall  soon  be  left  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  alone. 
But  not  long ;  hunger,  neglect,  want  of  proper  medicine,  exposure  and  cold  will 
soon  do  their  work,  and,  buoyed  up  no  longer  by  the  patient,  loving  smile  of 
his  angelic  mother,  and  the  magnetic  influence  of  her  sweet  voice,  he  will  lay 
down  the  burden  of  life  and  join  her  in  the  heavenly  realms  where  sorrow  and 
distress  can  never  come.  What  a  field  for  noble-hearted  men  and  women — the 
seeking  out  of  these  unfortunate  ones  and  ministering  to  their  needs  and 
bringing  them  back  to  health,  or  at  least  to  smooth  their    pathway  to  the  grave. 

The  Rescue.  (Page  107.) — A  picture  so  life-like  that  it  seems  unnecessary 
to  say  anything  in  explanation.  The  floating  mast,  the  life-boat,  the  ship  in 
the  distance,  all  speak  in  unmistakable  language  of  the  vessel  that  has  gone 
down  beneath  the  surging  waves,  bearing  with  her  many  precious  souls.  The 
devotion  of  the  mother  to  her  offspring,  sung  by  poets  of  all  nations  and  in  all 
languages,  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  the  artist.  Without  thought  of  herself, 
she  lifts  the  precious  one  high  above  her  head,  that  it  may  be  saved  by  the 
strong  arms  outstretched  to  receive  it;  but  the  rescuer  thinks  of  the  mother 
also,  and  grasps  her  wrist  firmly  as  he  reaches  for  the  babe. 

Judith.  (Page  134.) — This  is  a  remarkably  well  executed  piece  of  statuary 
in  the  palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  the  sculptor's  name  not  appearing  in  con- 
nection with  it,  Judith  was  the  daughter  of  Merari,  of  the  tribe  of  Reuben, 
celebrated  for  her  heroism  and  the  brilliancy  of  the  plot  by  which  she  out- 
witted Holofernes,  the  Assyrian  general,  who  was  at  the  time  besieging  her 
native  city,  Bethulia.  She  went  forth  richly  clad,  visited  the  camp  of  the  enemy, 
and  by  her  charms  succeeded  in  fascinating  Holofernes.  When  alone  with  him 
in  his  tent,  he  being  intoxicated,  she  cut  off  his  head  with  a  falchion  and  bore 
it  into  the  city.  The  Assyrians,  panic-stricken  at  the  loss  of  their  general, 
were  easily  put  to  rout  by  the  Israelites.  Judith  lived  to  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  five  years. 

The  Politician  in  Retirement.  (Page  138.) — How  well  this  picture 
reveals  the  evils  sometimes  resulting  from  political  life.  Drinking  the  health 
of  the  aspirant  for  political  honors ;  drinking  with  "  the  boys  "  to  insure  their 
votes ;  drinking  toasts  at  the  reception  of  the  victorious  candidate ;  drinking 
with  everybody  before  the  election,  and  a  great  deal  more  afterwards — all  this 
has  fixed  a  habit  which  the  politician  cannot  shake  off,  and  in  the  retirement 
of  his  own  home  he  turns  to  the  wine  bottle  for  the  excitement  which  he 
found  in  politics.     A  few  more  years  and  he  will  fill  a  drunkard's  grave. 

The  First  Step  in  a  Home  Unvexed  by  Ambition.  (Page  140.) — In 
the  home  represented  in  this  picture  we-  see  no  costly  furniture,  no  grand  piano 


APPENDIX.  559 

or  stately  pictures  ;  yet  how  pleasant  and  contented  the  expression  of  every 
face.  No  business  cares  or  political  ambitions  to  vex  the  father ;  no  question 
of  fine  display  in  dress,  or  trouble  with  unruly  servants  to  occupy  the  thoughts 
of  the  mother.  They  see  the  first  tottering  steps  of  the  little  one,  and  feel 
the  exquisite  joy  which  it  brings  to  the  heart  of  the  parent  to  know  that  the 
first-born  can  walk.  How  different  this  scene  from  that  in  the  home  of  the 
rich,  where  the  children  are  put  to  bed  by  their  nurses,  their  brains  stupefied 
with  paregoric  or  laudanum,  while  father  and  mother  are  at  the  opera  or 
attending  some  fashionable  reception. 

Execution  of  Joan  of  Arc.  (Page  142.) — Joan  of  Arc,  the  Maid  of  Orleans, 
was  a  French  heroine,  born  in  141 1,  at  Domremy,  in  Lorraine.  She  was  burned 
at  the  stake  May  31st,  143 1.  Born  of  poor  parents,  she  received  no  education. 
Her  imagination  was  active  and  she  imbibed  largely  the  superstitions  entertained 
by  the  people  of  her  native  place.  In  1430,  when  the  English  were  gaining 
ground  every  day  against  the  French,  she  became  impressed  with  the  belief 
that  she  was  to  be  the  deliverer  of  her  country,  saying  that  she  heard  "voices" 
and  had  visions  commanding  her  to  lead  the  troops.  This  being  entirely  con- 
trary to  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  she  was  deemed  a  sorceress  or  witch. 
By  some  it  was  thought  more  than  probable  that  her  clear  mind  saw  the  ad- 
vantage to  be  gained  by  working  on  the  credulity  of  the  people,  and  that  she 
claimed  supernatural  aid  in  order  to  draw  about  her  more  closely  the  ignorant 
and  superstitious  and  arouse  the  enthusiasm  which  was  necessary  to  carry 
them  on  to  victory.  With  this  thought  before  her,  she  insisted  on  being  taken 
to  Chinon,  where  Charles  V.  held  his  court.  She  singled  out  the  King  from 
among  a  crowd  of  courtiers  from  whom  he  was  undistinguished,  and  at  once 
secured  his  favor.  A  suit  of  armor  was  made  for  her,  and,  armed  with  a  sword, 
which  she  had  described  as.  buried  in  the  church  of  St.  Catharine,  at  Fierlois, 
where  it  was  actually  found,  she  put  herself  at  the  head  of  10,000  troops,  com- 
manded by  royal  officers,  and  attacked  the  English  who  were  besieging  Orleans, 
routing  them  completely.  Many  victories  followed,  and  in  three  months,  Charles 
was  crowned  king  at  Rheims,  with  the  Maid  of  Orleans  standing  by  his  side. 
Her  mission  was  now  accomplished.  She  was  persuaded  to  remain  with  the 
army,  however,  but  her  victories  were  over.  She  was  taken  prisoner  May  the 
10th,  by  the  English,  who  were  furious  by  reason  of  the  defeats  sustained 
since  her  connection  with  the  French  army.  After  her  trial,  which  was  nothing 
but  a  farce,  she  was  condemned  and  was  burned  at  the  stake  amid  the  lamen- 
tations of  the  people  and  the  jeers  and  curses  of  the  English.  The  French 
king  took  no  steps  to  avenge  her  death,  and  not  until  ten  years  afterwards 
did  he  reverse  the  decision  of  her  judges  and  pronounce  her  a  martyr. 

Early  Troubles — Little  Mischief  and  His  Teacher.  (Page  146.) — This 
picture  takes  us  back  to  the  time  when  we  attended  the  village  school,  and 
reminds  us  of  half-learned  lessons  and  well-earned  floggings.  Young  Mischief 
has  evidently  been  "kept  in"  by  his  teacher  as  a  punishment  for  some  violation 
of  school  discipline,  or,  perchance,  to  learn  an  unusually  refractory  lesson  ;  but 
the  dominie,  finding  the  time  hang  heavily  on  his  hands,  has  recourse  to  his 
flute,  much  to  the  edification  and  entertainment  of  the  culprit,  who  forgets  his 
imprisonment,    and   also    the    lesson,  in   listening   to    the    melody    which    the 


560  APPENDIX. 

school-master's  nimble  fingers  call  forth.  Thus  what  was  intended  as  a  punish- 
ment becomes  a  real  reward,  and  the  school-master  unwittingly  opens  the  way 
for  future  transgressions. 

Sung  to  Sleep.  (Page  171.) — How  soothing  and  restful  the  influence  of 
song.  In  this  picture  the  artist  represents  an  old  man  and  a  little  girl  who 
have  fallen  asleep  while  listening  to  the  sweet  strains  of  a  mother's  voice. 
Old  age  and  infancy  thus  pay  homage  to  the  Goddess  of  Song.  We  are  lulled 
to  slumber  in  our  cradles  by  the  voice  of  mother,  and  when  the  hair  is  sil- 
vered and  the  eyes  grow  dim  with  age,  the  dear  voices  of  children  and  grand- 
children carry  our  memories  back  to  the  lullaby  of  the  nursery. 

A  Young  Man  of  the  World.  (Page  179.) — The  figures  in  this  picture 
almost  tell  their  own  tale.  The  young  man  of  the  world  is  a  new  arrival  at 
the  village  inn,  and  a  welcome  one,  too,  judging  from  the  alacrity  with  which 
the  women  folk  hasten  to  serve  him.  They  evidently  anticipate  a  liberal  cus- 
tomer, who  will  spend  his  money  freely.  While  one  takes  down  a  mug  for  his 
beer,  another  brushes  a  chair  with  her  apron,  neither  taking  her  eyes  from  his 
face.  Even  the  fat  gentleman  at  the  table  momentarily  breaks  the  fascinating 
spell  of  the  pot  of  ale  before  him  and  turns  to  look  at  the  new  comer. 

Cain  and  Abel  Rocked  in  the  First  Cradle.  (Page  199.) — This  engrav- 
ing is  a  reproduction  from  a  steel  print  representing  one  of  the  most  famous 
pieces  of  statuary  in  the  world,  now  in  the  galleries  of  Luxembourg,  the 
property  of  the  French  nation,  which  sets  an  inestimable  value  upon  it.  The 
sculptor's  conception  is  at  once  bold  and  grand,  while  the  execution  falls 
scarcely  short  of  the  marvellous.  The  subject  is  Eve  cast  out  of  Eden,  in 
whose  arms  are  cradled  the  first  offerings  of  human  love — Cain  and  Abel. 
Frpm  a  glorious  state  and  beatific  condition,  the  mother  of  mankind  is  now  pen- 
sive in  her  contemplation  of  the  loss  of  Eden,  and  sorrowing  with  a  bitter 
repentance  for  the  act  that  brought  upon  the  world  an  inheritance  of  woe  and 
death.  But  in  that  fair  was  the  birth  of  maternal  love,  and  though  the  soul  be 
bowed  with  grief  for  a  lost  estate,  her  heart  beats  with  the  rapture  of  mother- 
hood as  she  cradles  her  offspring  in  lap  and  arms,  a  downy  bed  for  babes 
fashioned  by  God's  own  hands.  What  a  contrast  between  the  faces  of  the  two 
babes  as  they  lie  in  their  mother's  arms.  A  glance  is  sufficient  to  enable  one 
to  distinguish  between  them.  Already  Satan's  influence  is  shown  in  the  face 
of  Cain.  His  features  are  distorted  by  a  scowl,  and  he  draws  his  head  away 
from  Abel  in  a  fretful  way  ;  you  almost  seem  to  hear  his  peevish  complaint. 
Observe  how  Abel  nestles  at  his  brother's  side.  His  head  inclines  lovingly 
towards  Cain's  cheek  and  his  arm  rests  confidingly  on  his  knee.  How  little 
the  mother  thinks  that  the  hand  of  the  one  shall  so  soon  be  raised  against  the 
other,  and  that  she  shall  lose  both,  one  returning  to  the  God  who  gave  it  life, 
and  one  going  forth  as  a  wanderer  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  contemned  and 
shunned  by  all  mankind. 

Death-bed  of  Copernicus.  (Page  202.) — All  honor  to  Nikalaus  Copernicus, 
the  Polish  or  German  astronomer,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  our  present 
system  of  the  universe,  and  the  explanation  of  planetary  motions  upon  a  more 


APPENDIX.     *  561 

rational  principle  than  the  old  Ptolemaic  theory.  He  was  born  at  Thorn,  in 
Prussia,  February  19,  1473  (after  the  annexation  of  that  town  to  Poland,  which 
gave  rise  to  Poland's  claiming  him  as  her  son)  ;  died  at  Frankenburg,  May 
24,  1542.  He  received  the  rudiments  of  a  classical  and  scientific  education  at 
his  father's  house  ;  after  which  he  studied  medicine  at  the  University  of  Cracow, 
also  devoted  himself  to  mathematics  and  astronomy.  Subsequently,  he  spent 
several  years  in  Italy  studying  astronomy.  Having  examined  all  the  systems 
of  the  universe  extant  at  that  time,  he  became  convinced  that  "  the  sun  and 
stars  are  stationary,  and  that  the  moon  alone  revolves  about  the  Earth ;  also, 
that  the  Earth  is  a  planet  whose  orbit  is  between  Venus  and  Mars ;  and  that 
the  planets  revolve  about  the  sun,  the  apparent  revolution  of  the  heavens  being 
caused  by  the  rotation  of  the  Earth  on  its  axis.  He  was,  of  course,  violently 
assailed  by  the  contemporary  astronomers  and  scientists  whose  pet  theories 
were  thus  demolished.  He  published  six  books  setting  forth  his  discoveries 
and  elaborating  his  theory,  the  first  volume  of  Which  was  placed  in  his  hands 
the  very  day  of  his  death.  Monuments  were  raised  to  his  memory  at  Cracow 
in  1822,  at  Thorn  in  1853,  and  a  colossal  statue,  by  Thorwaldsen,  at  Warsaw, 
in  1829. 

Hard  Times.  (Page  209.) — Hubert  Herkomer,  the  artist,  was  born  at 
Waal,  Bavaria,  in  1849.  In  1857  his  father  settled  in  Southampton,  England. 
He  studied  in  Southampton,  South  Kensington  and  Munich.  He  has  been 
particularly  successful  in  the  class  of  pictures  illustrated  by  the  accompanying 
engraving,  probably  because  of  the  hardship  through  which  he  passed  in  his 
early  artistic  life,  coupled  with  ill  health.  After  going  to  London  he  met  with 
greater  success.  There  he  became  connected  with  The  Graphic,  in  which 
appeared  his  "  Chelsea  Pensioners,"  considered  his  masterpiece.  His  "  Reading 
War  News,"  painted  in  Normandy  during  the  Franco-German  war,  attracted 
great  attention  and  increased  his  popularity.  "  Hard  Times "  appeals  to  the 
sympathies  of  every  one  who  examines  it  carefully.  How  many  times  have  we 
witnessed  this  scene  in  real  life,  in  the  rural  districts  at  the  close  of  a  long 
day  in  the  harvest  field.  The  weary  laborer  has  turned  toward  the  farm-house- 
with  his  heavy  tools,  resting  a  moment  at  the  field  gate,  while  his  humble 
partner  nurses  her  babe  by  the  road-side,  on  her  arm  the  cloth  containing  the 
dishes  from  which  they  ate  the  mid-day  meal.  The  little  boy  fatigued  with 
following  the  reapers,  or  chasing  the  squirrels  and  butterflies  along  the  fences 
or  among  the  trees,  has  fallen  asleep,  his  head  resting  on  his  tired  mother's 
knee.  But  night  draws  on  apace,  and  they  must  hasten  homeward  ;  so  we  leave 
them  trudging  down  the  dusty  road,  the  father  to  do  his  accustomed  chores  and 
the  mother  to  prepare  the  evening  meal ;  for  her  task  does  not  end  with  the 
setting  of  the  sun,  but  long  after  the  lamps  are  lighted  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  are  asleep,  she  will  be  employed  in  the  thousand  little  tasks  which  none 
can  understand  save  those  who  have  known  the  trials  and  the  hardships  of 
life  as  a  farmer's  wife. 

Napoleon's  Retreat   from   Moscow.  (Page   214.) — Here  we  have   a  fine 

reproduction  of  the   great  historical    painting   representing    the  heroism  of  the 

French    troops    during    their    retreat    from    Moscow  under  Napoleon,  November 

19th,   181 2.     One   can  with  difficulty  realize   the   great  suffering  and  hardships 

36 


562  APPENDIX. 

endured  by  the  retreating  army.  In  a  hostile  country,  heavily  laden  with  arms 
and  accoutrements,  drenched  with  rain,  followed  by  snow  and  sleet,  harassed 
on  all  sides  by  the  Cossacks,  the  dispirited  French  were  easily  thrown  into 
disorder,  and  the  army  began  a  retreat  which,  for  horror  and  suffering,  is 
unequalled  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Napoleon's  bull-dog  tenacity  and 
obstinacy  cost  France,  in  this  one  expedition,  the  lives  of  257,000  men,  besides 
the  loss  of  193,000,  who  were  made  prisoners  by  the  Russians. 

The  Reaper  and  the  Flowers.  (Page  215.) — The  chisel  of  the  sculptor 
has  not  been  employed  in  vain  to  give  life  to  that  beautiful  conception  of 
Longfellow,  "  The  Reaper  and  the  Flowers."  The  angel  of  death  bears  away 
in  his  arms  a  household  flower,  whose  perfume  has  for  a  few  short  years  made 
fragrant  the  lives  of  its  fond  parents  ;  but  as  they  follow  him  with  straining 
eyes  and  tearful  pleadings,  he  compassionately  points  upward  to  the  heavenly 
realms,  whither  he  is  bearing  their  darling,  and  comforts  them  with  the 
assurance  that  the  Master  hath  need  of  it,  and  that  in  good  time  they  shall 
see  it  again.  Thus  the  marble  is  made  to  shadow  forth  the  lesson  of  trustful 
obedience  contained  in  the  touching  verses  of  the  inspired  poet. 

The  Hour  of  Retribution — Last  Day  of  a  Condemned  Criminal.  (Page 
226.) — This  picture  is  a  copy  of  one  of  Jean  Louis  Ernest  Meissonier's  master- 
pieces, representing  the  last  moments  of  a  condemned  criminal.  His  hard  and 
cruel  face  is  the  true  index  of  his  character.  Even  now,  when  he  is  at  the 
verge  of  the  grave,  his  thoughts  are  of  vengeance  against  the  law  and  those 
who  have  brought  him  to  justice,  rather  than  of  repentance  for  his  crimes.  He 
does  not  consider  his  own  injustice  to  those  who  have  been  the  victims  of  his 
selfishness  and  hate.  He  thinks  only  of  himself  and  his  fancied  wrongs.  In 
his  rage  he  has  thrown  the  Bible,  which  some  sympathizing  friend  has  given 
him,  upon  the  floor,  and  glares  like  a  caged  beast  upon  the  crowd  about  him. 
He  has  no  kind  word  or  soothing  advice  for  his  broken-hearted  wife.  Even 
his  little  child,  who  is  too  young  to  understand  what  it  all  means,  and  weeps 
because  she  doesn't  know  what  else  to  do,  receives  no  encouraging  caress  or 
kind  word ;  and  if  she  remembers  this  scene  at  all,  it  will  be  to  remember 
that  her  father  was  not  good  to  her.  How  terrible  is  the  destiny  of  the  man 
who  lives  for  himself  only,  and  thinks  of  nothing  but  his  own  selfish  enjoy- 
ment. Such  a  life,  even  when  it  does  not  lead  to  crime,  is  sure  to  end  in 
disappointment  and  anguish.  We  are  always  happier  when  we  live  for  others 
as  well  as  ourselves.  Meissonier  was  born  in  Lyons  in  18 13.  He  studied  in 
Paris.  His  paintings  have  a  great  reputation,  and  are  of  exquisite  finish  and 
delicacy.  One,  "A  Charge  of  Cavalry,"  executed  in  1869,  sold  for  150,000 
francs.     It  is  in  a  private  gallery  in  Cincinnati. 

Fame.  (Page  233.) — A  bold  creation  of  the  sculptor.  "  Fame  " — that  which 
inspires  the  soldier  on  the  field  of  battle,  supports  the  explorer  on  his  weary  wan- 
derings across  the  trackless  deserts  and  pathless  forests,  the  anticipation  of  which 
is  food  for  the  famishing  inventor,  rest  for  the  struggling  author,  and  hope  for 
the  well-nigh  defeated  statesman — is  here  represented  as  a  beautiful  maiden, 
whose  out-stretched  wings  are  typical  of  her  soaring  nature,  seated  with  a 
wreath   in   her  hand,  ready  to   crown  the   aspirant  for  her  favor,  and  watching 


APPENDIX.  563 

his    struggles   with    earnest   eyes.     Yet   how    unstable   is    her  nature,  and  how 
soon  her  smiling  face  may  be  turned  toward  another. 

The  Empty  Saddle.  (Page  237.) — A  sad  story  is  told  by  this  picture. 
It  is  the  usual  result  of  false  notions  of  honor.  Two  youug  men  had 
quarrelled  about  some  trivial  matters  and  have  settled  their  differences  in  a 
duel.  The  empty  saddle  tells  the  tale  for  one  of  them,  and  his  "  friend,"  who 
accompanied  him  to  the  "  field  of  honor,"  but  who  was  too  cowardly  to  give 
him  good  advice,  now  hangs  his  head  in  grief  and  shame  in  the  presence  of 
the  heart-broken  mother  and  sisters.  Let  us  be  thankful  that  this  barbarous 
and  cowardly  custom  has  almost  entirely  disappeared  before  the  progress  of 
civilization  and  education.  Good  books  have  started  a  state  of  society  that 
renders  it  impossible  for  one  man  to  murder  another  in  the  name    of  honor. 

The  Artist  Albrecht  Durer,  in  the  Palace  of  the  Hapsburg.  (Page  241.) 
— Albrecht  Durer  was'  a  German  painter  and  engraver,  born  in  Nuremburg, 
May  20th,  147 1  ;  died  April  6th,  1538.  He  studied  with  Wohlgemuth  four 
years,  and  afterwards  travelled  through  Germany,  the  Low  Countries,  and 
Italy.  He  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  many  learned  men  and  was  greatly 
honored  by  the  people  of  his  native  town.  He  held  the  position  of  Court 
painter  under  Maximilian  I.  and  Charles  V.,  the  engraving  representing  him 
as  thus  occupied.  He  was  undoubtedly  the  greatest  German  painter,  and  with 
his  death  the  excellence  to  which  he  had  raised  art  in  that  country,  departed. 
Raphael  had  the  highest  admiration  for  his  genius,  and,  it  is  said,  sent  him  a 
drawing  executed  by  his  own  hand.  A  bronze  statue  was  erected  to  his  memory 
at  Nuremburg  in  1840.  His  most  famous  works  are,  "  The  Knight,  Death, 
and  the  Devil,"  "  Christ  taken  from  the  Cross,"  "  The  Adoration  of  the  Magi," 
"Assumption  of  the  Virgin,"  etc. 

Before  Monterey.  (Page  258.) — Monterey  is  a  city  of  Mexico,  capital  of  the 
state  of  Nuevo  Leon,  450  miles  northwest  of  the  City  of  Mexico.  It  was  a  strong 
military  post  during  the  war  between  the  United  States  and  Mexico,  held  by 
the  Mexican  general  Ampudia  with  10,000  troops.  General  Taylor,  with  6600 
men  attacked  it  September  19th,  1846;  it  capitulated  on  the  24th,  after  a  spirited 
resistance.  General  William  O.  Butler  led  the  charge,  and  his  gallant  action 
in  springing  forward  at  a  critical  moment  with  the  words  "  Follow  me !"  encouraged 
the  wavering  troops  and  won  the  day ;  he  was  severely  wounded.  For  his 
gallantry  on  this  occasion  a  sword  was  voted  him  by  Congress. 

Niobe.  (Page  266.) — Niobe,  a  character  in  Grecian  mythology,  daughter  of 
Tantalus,  King  of  Lydia,  by  a  nymph.  She  was  the  mother  of  six  sons  and  six 
daughters,  by  her  husband  Ampion,  King  of  Thebes.  Among  Grecian  women  it 
was  deemed  an  honor  to  have  a  numerous  offspring,  and  Niobe  boastfully  pro- 
claimed herself  superior  to  Latona,  who  was  the  mother  of  but  two  children.  Apollo 
and  Diana,  incensed  by  the  slur  thus  cast  upon  their  mother,  slew  all  the 
children  of  Niobe,  who  in  her  grief  wept  herself  to  stone. 

The  Bloom  of  Health  and  the  Whisper  of  Love.  (Page  272.) — How 
exquisitely  the  painter  has  drawn  his  interpretation  of  the  sentiment  expressed 


564  APPENDIX. 

in  this  sketch.  A  maiden  fair  to  look  upon  is  wandering  along  a  woodland 
path  beside  a  swiftly-flowing  stream.  Her  attitude,  the  expression  of  her  face, 
the  far-away  look  in  her  eye,  all  indicate  that  some  one  is  expected  to  meet 
her.  Who  that  some  one  is  can  readily  be  imagined,  even  without  the  assist- 
ance of  Cupid,  who  so  silently  approaches  and  whispers  iu  her  listening  ear. 
Let  us  hope  that  naught  he  may  say  to  her  will  prove  untrue,  and  that  the 
one  for  whom  she  waits  may  be  worthy  of  her  confidence. 

A  Cry  from  the  Sea.  (Page  288.) — Have  you  ever  lived  near  the  sea  and 
heard  the  roar  of  the  billows,  the  crash  of  the  thunder,  and  felt  the  keen  blast 
of  the  tempest  as  it  rushed  shrieking  over  the  vast  expanse  of  waters  ?  Have 
you  listened  to  the  booming  of  the  minute  gun  from  the  stranded  vessel  or 
watched  the  brave  rescuers  as  they  plunged  through  the  seething  surf  with  the 
gallant  life  boat  ?  If  so,  then  you  can  appreciate  this  painting.  What  heroism 
is  displayed  by  the  father  as  he  hastens  to  the  rescue,  his  wife  bidding  him 
"  God-speed  "  on  his  mission  of  mercy.  Perhaps  the  little  boy  in  the  backgroud, 
who  cries,  he  scarcely  knows  why,  unless  it  is  because  he  sees  his  mother  weep, 
may  go  fatherless  to  bed  to-night. 

An  Interesting  Story.  (Page  295.) — This  is  a  picture  for  the  little  people, 
and  it  is  one  that  they  will  understand  and  appreciate  too,  as  it  represents  a 
scene  familiar  to  most  of  them.  A  little  girl  with  a  book  in  her  hand  is 
reading  a  very  entertaining  story,  judging  from  the  rapt  attention  with  which 
her  auditors  listen.  The  expression  on  each  face  clearly  indicates  the  emotions 
called  forth  by  the  subject-matter.  The  playthings  are  for  the  time  forgotten 
in  the  all-absorbing  adventures  of  the  hero.  Even  Fido  ceases  his  gambols, 
represses  the  roguish  bark  expressive  of  his  enjoyment  of  the  romp  he  has 
been  having  with  his  companions,  and  listens  sedately  to  the  words  of  the 
young  reader.  Not  that  he  exactly  understands  their  import  or  feels  a  very 
lively  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  hero  of  the  story ;  but  the  hush  that  falls 
upon  the  group,  tells  him  that  some  new  entertainment  has  been  found,  and 
that  his  antics,  as  a  source  of  amusement,  are  at  a  discount ;  and  he  is  too 
well-bred  to  obtrude.  In  this  respect  he  puts  to  shame  many  of  his  human 
friends,  who  have  not  learned,  or  perhaps  have  forgotten,  that  it  is  bad  man- 
ners to  interrupt  one  who  is  reading.  The  only  unappreciative  spectator  is  the 
chubby  little  fellow  in  the  high  chair,  who,  oblivious  of  the  perilous  encounters 
and  hair-breadth  escapes  which  rivet  the  attention  of  his  playmates  and  fill 
their  eyes  with  wonder,  sleeps  contentedly,  his  mind  soaring  away  in  visions 
of  impossible  jumping  jacks,  inordinately  large  sticks  of  candy,  and  limitless 
quantities  of  the   good  things  of  babyhood. 

Mother.  (Page  300.) — This  picture  is  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  bond 
of  sympathy  which  should  connect  mother  and  daughter — confidence.  What 
more  natural  than  that  a  young  girl  should  seek  her  mother's  sympathy  and 
advice  when  trouble  comes.  Mother's  voice  has  been  music  to  her  ear  since 
memory  first  dawned ;  her  hand  has  rocked  the  cradle,  rested  upon  her  head 
as  she  lisped  her  first  prayer,  and  smoothed  her  pillow  during  the  weary  hours 
of  sickness.  She  can  be  trusted,  and  into  her  ear  is  poured  the  secret  that  no 
one  else  may  know.     Whether  it  be  an  offer  of  marriage,  or  an  intimation  of 


APPENDIX.  565 

a  broken  vow,  mother  will  know  best  how  to  advise.  She  is  the  sheet  anchor, 
the  harbor,  the  refuge  to  every  child.  Her  constancy  is  not  to  be  shaken,  her 
love  cannot  be  chilled.  From  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  she  is  the  ministering 
angel,  the  first  to  reward,  the  last  to  condemn,  the  one  that  never  deserts. 
She  is  indeed  a  rainbow  of  promise,  one  end  bathed  in  the  sunshine  of  the 
morning  of  life,  the  other  lost  in  the  shadows  of  the  grave. 

Samson,  as  Servant  to  the  Philistines.  (Page  303.) — This  picture  repre- 
sents a  subject  so  well  known  that  even  children  are  familiar  with  it.  What 
a  lesson  to  all  disobedient  people,  young  and  old.  Samson,  who  was  wonder- 
fully favored  of  God,  and  through  Divine  grace  possessed  the  strength  of 
legions  of  men,  is  brought  to  the  miserable  and  humiliating  necessity  of  per- 
forming the  services  of  a  menial  for  the  Philistines,  who  stand  by  and  gloat 
over  his  sufferings.  All  his  troubles  were  brought  upon  himself  by  reason  of 
disobeying  God's  commands,  the  consequences  of  which  are  so  clearly  set 
forth  by  Dr.  Talmage  in  the  pages  of  this  intensely  interesting  book. 

Music  in  the  Household.  (Page  305.) — A  pleasing  picture,  well  calculated 
to  create  an  interest  in  family  music.  What  more  refining  or  captivating  than 
the  practice  of  music  in  the  family  circle,  when  our  sisters  lend  the  charm  of 
their  presence,  and  their  sweet  voices  accompany  the  flute,  the  cornet,  or  the 
violin;  or  when  the  subtle  touch  of  their  delicate  fingers  calls  forth  the  richest 
harmony  from  the  violoncello,  the  harp,  or  the  guitar.  How  many  young  men 
could  be  snatched  from  the  haunts  of  iniquity  by  the  bewitching  music  of 
their  sisters,  if  parents  would  but  realize  the  influence  which  the  heavenly  art 
holds  over  the  heart  of  man  and  encourage  its  cultivation  in  the  minds  of 
their  children.  Many  a  sensitive,  music-loving  boy,  finding  his  home  lacking 
in  the  melody  for  which  his  soul  yearns,  seeks  it  on  the  street  or  finds  it  in 
the  saloon  or  bagnio.  Oh,  why  should  mothers  and  sisters  allow  the  saloon 
keeper  a  monopoly  of  the  art  that  could  be  so  easily  and  effectively  employed 
to  keep  sons  and  brothers  at  home.  The  rumseller  well  knows  the  power  of 
music  and  employs  it  to  entice  to  his  den  the  youth  of  our  land.  Why  not 
fight  him  with  his  own  weapons  and  make  the  music  of  our  homes  so  deli- 
ciously  beautiful,  so  immensely  superior  to  that  of  the  grog  shop,  that  our 
young  men  would  no  longer  be  attracted  and  entertained  by  the  devil's  musi- 
cians, and  thus  remove  one  stumbling  block  from  their  path. 

The  Rural  Dancing  Master.  (Page  308.) — Surely  the  artist  must  have 
been  a  witness  of  some  such  scene  as  this  or  he  never  could  have  produced  it 
with  such  fidelity.  The  dancing  master  minutely  describes  the  movements 
about  to  be  executed,  while  the  rustic  swain  makes  a  mental  memorandum  of 
it,  his  interest  and  enthusiasm  plainly  showing  in  his  countenance.  His  partner 
is  equally  interested,  although  a  sense  of  modesty  causes  her  to  be  led  forward 
with  seeming  reluctance.  All  the  figures  are  now  in  repose  ;  but  what  a  trans- 
formation will  take  place  when  the  bow  is  drawn  across  the  strings  and  the 
rafters  are  made  to  ring  with  the  merry  notes  of  the  violin,  the  most  soul- 
stirring  of  all  musical  instruments.  Then  all  will  be  life  and  animation  ;  Ruth 
will  forget  her  bashfulness  and  bare  feet,  and  Tom  his  heavy  shoes  and  awkward 
appearance. 


566  APPENDIX. 

Virginius  Killing  his  Daughter.  (Page  314.) — This  picture,  reproduced 
from  a  steel  print  of  a  famous  piece  of  sculpture,  illustrates  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  acts  that  have  been  preserved  in  Roman  history.  The  story,  briefly 
told  is  as  follows  :  Appius  Claudius  was  a  Roman  Decemvir — one  of  the  ten 
judges — B.  C.  451.  He  was  a  patrician  of  Sabine  descent,  whose  family  had 
long  been  noted  for  cruelty  to  the  plebeians.  While  the  army  of  Rome  was 
absent  fighting  the  Sabines  and  ^qui,  Claudius  fell  in  love  with  Virginia, 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  Lucius  Virginius,  who  was  absent  as  captain  in  the 
Roman  legion,  having  left  his  daughter  in  care  o'f  Icilius.  To  secure  posses- 
sion of  the  girl,  Claudius  induced  a  client,  Marcus  Claudius,  possibly  a  kinsman, 
to  swear  before  the  tribunal  of  Decemvirs  that  Virginia  was  the  daughter  of 
one  of  his  female  slaves,  taken  secretly  by  the  childless  wife  of  Virginius  and 
falsely  claimed  her  parentage.  Virginia  was  accordingly  brought  before  the 
Decemvir,  who  decided  that  she  should  follow  her  master.  This  judgment  so 
incited  the  people  that  an  outbreak  was  on  the  point  of  occurring  when  Appius 
Claudius  ordered  that  she  be  brought  to  his  own  house,  promising  a  final  inquiry 
into  the  case  on  the  morrow.  Word  was  dispatched  to  Virginius,  who  quickly 
returned,  and  with  Icilius  and  his  friend,  Numitorius,  was  present  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  tribunal.  The  three  gave  testimony  touching  the  parentage  of 
Virginia,  notwithstanding  which  Claudius  reaffirmed  his  former  judgment  and 
commanded  that  she  be  delivered  to  Marcus.  Knowing  the  order  to  be  irre- 
vocable, and  fully  realizing  the  infamous  designs  that  Appius  had  upon  his 
daughter,  Virginius  seized  a  knife  from  a  butcher  who  was  standing  near  and 
stabbed  her  to  death  before  the  horrified  eyes  of  the  court  spectators.  Virginius, 
followed  by  his  two  friends,  fled  to  the  army  and  appealed  to  their  comrades 
for  vengeance.  A  cry  also  went  up  against  the  tyrant  from  the  citizens. 
Rome  was  on  the  point  of  being  attacked  by  the  incensed  army,  when  the 
Decemvirs  resigned  and  Claudius  was  thrown  into  prison,  where  he  was  soon 
after  strangled  by  order  of  the  tribunes. 

The  Mischief  Maker.  (Page  324.) — This  picture  is  a  copy  of  the  famous 
painting  by  E.  Stieler,  a  contemporary  artist,  justly  celebrated  for  his  humor- 
ous works.  It  portrays  the  misfortunes  frequently  attendant  upon  the  early 
struggles  of  genius.  In  a  spirit  of  revenge  and  retaliation  the  youthful  artist 
has  made  a  striking  reproduction  of  the  village  school-master's  classic  features 
on  the  blackboard,  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  scholars.  No  doubt  his 
success  elicited  their  hilarious  approbation,  so  much  so  as  to  bring  the  dominie 
to  the  scene.  How  fleeting  are  the  honors  of  this  world!  How  quickly  the 
triumph  of  the  victor  passes  away !  Who  could  detect  in  the  tearful  and 
crestfallen  boy  the  defiant  and  laughing  hero  of  an  hour  ago.  Happily,  at 
this  critical  moment,  the  village  parson  appears  upon  the  scene.  The  master 
feelingly  sets  forth  the  crime  of  the  irreverent  offender  and  asks  counsel  as  to 
what  would  be  adequate  punishment  for  such  a  crime.  But  the  parson  has  an 
eye  for  the  ludicrous,  and  the  picture  on  the  blackboard,  true  to  life,  appeals 
to  his  sense  of  humor.  He  looks  from  the  pedagogue  to  the  portrait,  and 
from  the  portrait  to  the  pedagogue,  and  strokes  his  chin  and  smiles.  He 
recognizes  the  budding  genius  in  the  sketch  before  him,  which  should  receive 
encouragement  and  culture.  No  doubt  he  will  prevail  upon  the  master  to 
treat    the    offence    as    leniently    as    possible,  as    the    culprit    has    already   been 


APPENDIX.  567 

badly  scared  and  humiliated,  and  we  heartily  second  him  in  his  efforts  towards 
an  amicable  adjustment  of  the  difficulty. 

The  Nestlings.  (Page  339.) — The  fancy  of  the  artist  has  drawn  a  beautiful 
design  for  our  eyes  to  feast  upon  and  a  great  lesson  for  our  hearts  to  contem- 
plate. A  Christian  mother  is  represented  as  seated  with  a  nest  in  her  lap  in 
which  are  her  little  ones,  all  ready  and  eager  to  spread  their  wings  and  soar 
forth  into  the  unknown  world.  One  by  one,  she  lets  them  go — one  to  be  a 
missionary  and  spread  the  Word  of  God  among  the  heathen  nations  of  the  earth ; 
another  to  become  a  teacher  in  a  Christian  college ;  this  one  to  be  a  doctor, 
and  carry  into  the  homes  of  the  rich  and  poor,  relief  from  suffering  and  pain  ; 
the  fourth  becomes  a  publisher,  and  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
land  people  bless  the  day  that  his  books  found  a  place  in  their  household ; 
another  takes  up  the  burden  of  life  as  a  statesman  and,  by  his  integrity  and 
courage  in  standing  up  for  the  right,  he  sets  an  example  for  the  world  to  follow. 
To  whom  is  the  credit  due  ?  Verily  to  the  mother  whose  Christian  teaching 
started  the  little  feet  aright  and  whose  saint-like  face  acted  like  a  beacon  light 
to  them  when  tossed  on  the  stormy  sea  of  temptation. 

The  Court  Fool.  (Page  367.) — The  fool,  or  jester,  was  a  character  employed 
by  many  kings  and  princes  in  the  seventeenth  century  for  the  amusement  of 
themselves  and  their  courts.  Some  of  them  were  entitled  to  the  appellation  by 
reason  of  what  Nature  had  gratuitously  done  for  them  ;  others  were  quick-witted 
poets ;  some  of  them  had  considerable  influence  and  privileges.  Angely,  the 
titular  fool  of  Louis  XIII.,  of  France,  by  his  cynical  pleasantry  became  one  of 
the  most  formidable  personages  at  court. 

Motherless.  (Page  376.) — How  sadly  strikes  the  word  into  our  hearts  and 
makes  them  gush  with  sympathy.  The  picture  represents  a  little  orphan,  a 
waif  in  tatters,  the  piece  of  a  wreck  floating  about  upon  the  ocean  of  life,  an 
aimless  wanderer  crying  up  and  down  the  world  for  a  mother  that  can  utter 
no  answering  word.  Perhaps  she  is  looking  out  of  the  pearly  gates  for  some 
one  that  will  give  shelter  to  her  orphan  child.  How  the  old  grandmother 
pities  the  uncovered  head,  and  the  homeless,  bare  and  tired  feet.  Though 
poor  be  their  condition,  this  family  will  not  refuse  shelter  to  one  of  God's  own, 
and  the  mother  who  weeps  in  heaven  shall  dry  her  eyes  with  joy,  for  her 
child  has  found  a  home.  This  picture  is  from  a  great  painting  in  the  Royal 
Gallery,  London,  but  the  artist's  name  is  unknown. 

The  Widower.  (Page  378.) — This  is  another  picture  that  speaks  for  itself. 
Few  can  realize  the  awful  emptiness  of  a  home  from  which  the  mother  has  been 
borne  to  the  grave ;  no  matter  if  the  father  and  children  are  left,  the  absence 
of  the  mother  leaves  a  void  which  nothing  can  fill.  How  fondly  the  father 
clasps  in  his  arms  the  form  of  the  sick  child,  realizing  his  helplessness ;  while 
the  elder  daughter  stands  by,  vainly  endeavoring  to  repress  the  sobs  which  will 
find  vent ;  on  the  floor,  the  baby  plays  unheeded,  laughing  and  crowing  with 
innocent  glee,  all  unconscious  of  the  sorrow  and  anxiety  which  bow  down  father 
and  sister.  Mother  gone,  a  child  sick  and  needing  her  gentle  care,  babes 
neglected,  house  in  disorder — what  more  pitiful  scene  can  be  depicted  on  canvas? 


568  APPENDIX. 

We  turn  away  from  it  with  sad  hearts,  knowing  too  well  that  it  is  enacted  each 
day  somewhere  in  the  world  about  us. 

A  Witch.  (Page  399.) — What  horrible  recollections  this  scene  calls  forth. 
A  score  of  people,  their  hearts  filled  with  cowardly  superstition,  clamor  at  the 
door  of  a  defenceless  old  woman  and  demand  her  life  for  an  imaginary  offence. 
There  is  no  sympathy  depicted  on  any  countenance.  Her  withered  cheek  no 
longer  glows  with  the  bloom  of  youth ;  her  eye  is  dull  and  sparkles  not  as  it 
did  in  days  gone  by,  when  the  people  were  wont  to  gather  around  her,  acknowl- 
edging the  magnetic  influence  of  her  many  charms.  Then  a  breath  of  suspi- 
cion against  her  fair  name  would  have  aroused  a  score  of  sturdy  defenders ;  but 
there  is  nothing  in  the  faded  cheek,  or  silvered  hair,  or  the  shrunken  form,  to 
excite  the  spirit  of  chivalry  in  the  breasts  of  accusing  invaders  of  her  hitherto 
peaceful  home.  On  a  barrel  is  perched  a  raven,  that  bird  of  evil  omen  ever 
associated  with  hobgoblins  and  witches.  True,  it  has  been  a  companion  and 
friend ;  its  hoarse  notes  have  greeted  her  when  she  arose  in  the  morning,  and 
followed  her  to  her  hard  couch  at  night.  Now  the  discordant  croakings  with 
which  it  announces  its  disapproval  of  their  intrusion  are  construed  by  the  excited 
people  to  be  an  evidence  of  the  old  woman's  guilt.  The  strong-armed  smith 
points  with  outstretched  hand  to  the  young  woman  in  the  foreground,  over 
whom  the  witch  is  supposed  to  have  cast  her  spell ;  the  horseshoe  over  the  door, 
placed  there  by  the  old  woman's  trembling  hands,  can  no  longer  protect  her, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  is  seized  upon  as  another  evidence  of  her  guilt.  The 
reader  vainly  hopes  that  she  will  prove  her  innocence.  Ignorance  and  super- 
stition have  found  a  new  victim,  and  we  draw  a  curtain  over  the  dreadful  scene 
with  devout  thanks  to  God  that  the  bright  sun  of  Christianity  has  rolled  aside 
the  mists  of  delusion,  and  that  such  scenes  are  no  longer  possible  in  civilized 
countries. 

The  Flood — Safe  While  Jesus  Watches.  (Page  403.) — A  striking  pic- 
ture truly,  and  a  faithful  copy  of  a  painting  by  John  Everett  Millais,  the 
English  artist,  born  in  Southampton,  June  8th,  1829.  When  nine  years  old 
he  gained  a  gold  medal  from  the  Society  of  Arts.  In  1847  he  won  a  gold 
medal  for  the  best  oil  picture,  the  subject  being,  "The  Tribe  of  Benjamin 
Seizing  the  Daughters  of  Shiloh."  He  married  the  former  wife  of  John 
Ruskin,  who  had  procured  a  divorce  in  Scotland.  His  pictures  are  noted  for 
their  simplicity  and  faithful  reproduction  of  nature.  The  subject  is  treated  in 
a  most  effective  and  original  manner  that  catches  immediately  the  attention 
and  sympathy  of  the  beholder.  It  is  innocence  cradled  by  destroying  waters. 
All  about  is  desolation  by  submergement ;  homes  invaded  and  every  living 
thing  driven  out ;  in  the  hasty  flight  a  sleeping  child  has  been  abandoned,  but 
God  watches,  and  as  the  waters  rush  through  the  deserted  house,  there  is  borne 
out  upon  the  flood  a  hapless  little  soul,  that  wakes  to  the  lullaby  of  the  roving 
tide.  As  the  cradle  sweeps  beneath  overhanging  boughs,  the  babe  cooes  and 
prattles  to  the  swift  moving  waters,  while  the  house-cat  watches  with  more 
consciousness  of  danger  the  swirls  and  threatening  obstructions  that  may 
convert  the  cradle  into  a  coffin.  But  Jesus  pilots  that  frail  shallop,  and,  what- 
ever the  end  He  will  be  there  to  take  the  dimpled  hands  in  His.  This  picture 
brings  forcibly  to  mind  the  recent  horror  in  the  romantic  valley  of  the  Conemaugh. 


APPENDIX.  569 

From  the  Pennsylvania  railroad  tower  a  cradle  was  seen  floating  on  the  raging 
waters ;  in  it  a  little  babe  fast  asleep.  It  was  beyond  the  power  of  man  to 
secure  the  little  one  and  it  floated  away  in  the  darkness. 

Ill-Gotten  Gains.  (Page  415.) — Few  stronger  pictures  have  been  painted 
than  the  one  from  which  the  accompanying  illustration  is  a  reproduction.  The 
faces  are  marvellously  expressive,  and  wherever  we  might  see  them,  or  under 
what  circumstances  or  attitude,  we  would  instinctively  say  to  ourselves,  "  What 
miserly  countenances."  Note  the  curl  in  the  lip  of  one,  and  the  craven,  hard 
visage  of  the  other,  more  intent  upon  his  grasp  of  a  coin  than  of  the  pen  with 
which  he  reluctantly  makes  an  entry.  The  picture  is  a  homily  on  human 
greed  and  evil  passions.  The  artist,  Quintin  Matsys,  was  a  Flemish  painter, 
born  in  Louvain  about  1460.  He  was  brought  up  as  a  blacksmith,  but  falling 
in  love  with  the  daughter  of  an  artist  he  threw  aside  his  leather  apron  and 
abandoned  the  forge  for  the  easel  in  order  to  gain  her  hand.  "  The  Misers  " 
is  one  of  his  best  known  pictures,  and  is  in  Windsor  Castle.  Another  is  the 
great  altar-piece  in  the  Museum  at  Antwerp,  devoted  to  incidents  in  the  history 
of  John  the  Baptist,  and  St.  John  the  Evangelist.  Queen  Elizabeth  is  said  to 
have  offered  64,000  florins  for  it.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  says  that  some  of  the 
heads  executed  by  Matsys  are  not  exceeded  even  by  Raphael  himself. 

Alva's  Last  Ride  through  Amsterdam.  (Page  420.) — Who  has  not  heard 
of  the  ravages  of  the  Duke  of  Alva  in  the  Low  Countries  ?  For  three  hun- 
dred years  he  has  been  held  up  as  the  embodiment  of  all  that  is  heartless, 
cruel  and  malicious.  Probably  no  other  man  since  the  beginning  of  time  has 
so  much  to  account  for  in  the  way  of  wholesale  cruelty  and  murder.  He 
was  a  Spanish  statesman  and  general,  born  in  1508  and  died  1582.  Philip  of 
Spain  having  determined  on  the  invasion  of  the  Netherlands,  10,000  veterans 
were  placed  under  the  command  of  the  Duke  of  Alva,  and  the  expedition 
embarked  at  Carthagena,  May  10th,  1567.  Alva  established  himself  at  Brussels 
and  at  once  proceeded  in  his  work  of  vengeance.  He  set  up  "The  Council  of 
Troubles,"  better  known  as  "  The  Council  of  Blood."  It  was  well  named,  as 
during  his  six  years'  reign  in  the  Netherlands  blood  flowed  like  water.  His 
first  act  was  to  behead  Counts  Egmont  and  Horn,  two  idols  of  the  people,  in 
the  great  square  of  Brussels,  June  5th,  1568.  At  this  time  William  Keij,  of  Breda, 
a  renowned  painter,  was  engaged  to  execute  a  portrait  of  Alva.  While  employed 
in  this  work,  in  fact  in  putting  the  finishing  touches  on  the  portrait,  Keij  over- 
heard a  few  words  which  revealed  to  him  the  impending  fate  of  Egmont  and 
Horn.  .  His  soul  sickened,  and  with  throbbing  brain  he  went  to  his  home  at 
the  end  of  the  sitting,  unable  to  banish  from  his  memory  the  pitiless  glare  of 
those  glittering  gray  eyes.  What  fears  for  himself  and  family  must  have  filled 
his  heart  and  strained  it  beyond  the  power  of  human  endurance.  The  next  day, 
Whitsun  eve,  the  portrait  painter  died — the  same  day  that  Egmont's  head  rolled  in 
the  market  place  of  Brussels.  Then  followed  the  execution  of  other  leaders  of 
prominence  by  the  wholesale,  burnings  at  the  stake,  and  tortures  and  horrors  that 
make  the  blood  run  cold.  The  mere  breathing  of  a  suspicion  against  any  one, 
especially  if  wealthy,  secured  his  execution  and  the  confiscation  of  his  property. 
Alva  had  promised  to  enrich  the  treasury  of  Philip  by  a  golden  river  a  yard 
deep,  drawn   from   the  confiscated  property  of  heretics.     Infuriated  by  the  slay- 


57c  APPENDIX. 

ing  of  the  Duke  of  Aremberg,  who  was  in  command  of  the  Spanish  troops  at 
the  battle  of  Heiligerlee,  where  they  were  defeated  by  Count  Louis  of  Nassau, 
Alva  caused  to  be  executed  eighteen  nobles.  William  of  Orange  raised  an  army 
and  endeavored  to  drive  Alva  from  the  country.  The  latter  avoided  an  engage- 
ment, and  although  the  Prince  changed  his  encampment  twenty-nine  times,  he 
always  found  the  Duke  in  his  rear.  Alva's  manceuvering  in  this  campaign  was 
a  masterpiece  of  military  tactics  and  worthy  of  a  better  cause.  At  last  the 
Prince  was  compelled  to  give  up  the  campaign  and  Alva  celebrated  the  withdrawal 
of  the  opposing  forces  by  erecting  a  colossal  bronze  statue  of  himself  in  the  , 
citadel  at  Antwerp.  Although  he  had  boasted  of  turning  into  Philip's  treasury 
an  avalanche  of  gold,  and  while  his  confiscations  were  simply  enormous,  in  the 
six  years  of  his  rule  twenty-five  millions  of  money  were  sent  to  him  from  Spain,, 
and  he  left  the  Netherlands  without  a  dollar  in  the  treasury.  When  his  suc- 
cessor arrived,  in  1573,  Alva  advised  that  every  city  in  the  Netherlands  should 
be  burnt  to  the  ground.  He  boasted  that  during  his  six  years'  reign  he  had 
caused  eighteen  thousand  persons  to  be  executed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  thousands 
who  perished  in  battle,  siege  and  merciless  slaughter.  Every  conceivable  mode 
of  torture  was  employed  in  his  persecutions  of  the  victims  of  his  royal  master's 
vengeance.  At  Harlem  three  hundred  citizens,  tied  two  and  two,  back  to  back, 
were  thrown  into  the  lake,  and  five  hundred  more  in  the  same  manner  were 
drowned  in  the  river  Yssel.  All  these  horrors,  and  thousands  of  outrages  which 
are  better  left  unrecorded,  the  Duke  of  Alva  inflicted  on  the  Protestants  in  his- 
zeal  for  the  cause  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 

At  the  Golden  Gate.  (Page  425.) — Valentine  C.  Prinsep,  an  English  painter 
of  considerable  reputation,  born  in  India,  February  14th,  1836.  His  works  are- 
celebrated  for  their  vigor,  brilliant  color  and  fidelity  to  nature.  "  News  from 
Abroad,"  "  Miriam  Watching  the  Infant  Moses,"  "  The  Venetian  Lover  "  and 
the  "  Death  of  Cleopatra,"  are  among  his  best  known  works.  In  this  picture  we 
have  a  glimpse  of  the  Golden  Gate,  but  it  is  shut.  What  has  this  young  woman 
done  that  the  beautiful  portals  are  barred  against  her  ? 

Bad  News  from  the  Sea.  (Page  427.)— Here  is  a  fisher  village  on  the 
New  England  coast,  a  corner  of  the  world  where  the  meddling  rush  of  wheels 
and  the  trail  of  the  electric  spark  are  strangers.  Here  is  the  old  post-office, 
with  its  grime  and  rot,  its  antique  and  decrepit,  weather-beaten  and  unstable 
sides  and  roof  that  clasp  hands  for  mutual  succor,  that  lean  upon  each  other's 
infirmities,  joining  forces  to  resist  the  enfeebling  ravages  of  time.  But  what 
tales  it  may  tell !  Oh,  the  letters  of  sunshine  and  shadow  that  have,  rested, 
for  a  brief  time  in  its  musty  boxes.  The  artist,  in  the  accompanying  picture, 
has  chosen  to  represent  the  effects  of  a  letter  that  came  laden  with  shadows. 
See  the  young  wife  and  the  consoling  mother.  Away  off  at  sea  disaster  has 
come  down  upon  a  ship  like  some  fell  fiend  from  the  sky  ;  the  lightning  strove 
to  cleave,  and  the  winds  to  bury,  and  the  wild  waves  to  crush.  How  the 
sailors  battled;  but  man's  strength  may  not  prevail  against  the  re-enforced 
powers  of  air  and  sea,  so  the  ship  went  down,  and  on  the  waves  rode  naught 
but  fragments  of  the  wreck,  messengers  that  shall  tell  what  none  were  left  to. 
speak. 


APPENDIX.  571 

Siege  of  Tvre.  (Page  441.) — Tyre,  the  principal  city  of  Phoenicia,  was 
founded,  according  to  Herodotus,  about  2800  years  before  Christ.  In  the  eighth 
century  before  Christ  it  withstood  a  siege  of  five  years  by  the  Assyrians  under 
Sargon,  but  about  the  seventh  century  was  captured  by  them  and  continued  in 
their  power  until  the  destruction,  of  the  Assyrian  monarchy  by  Pharaoh  Necho, 
whom  it  acknowledged  as  suzerain.  Tyre  withstood  a  siege  of  thirteen  years 
by  Nebuchadnezzar,  who  defeated  Necho,  but  the  city  was  finally  overcome. 
Alexander  the  Great  took  the  city  after  a  siege  of  seven  months,  its  downfall 
being  accomplished  by  treachery,  and  it  was  reduced  to  ashes,  a  part  of  the 
inhabitants  being  slain  and  the  rest  sold  as  slaves. 

Chivalry.  (Page  442.) — This  picture  recalls  the  days  when  a  man  was  his 
own  judge,  jury  and  executioner.  If  a  neighboring  king  swept  down  on  the 
castle  of  the  prince  during  his  absence  and  carried  away  his  wife  and  daughters, 
he  could  not  appeal  to  the  strong  arm  of  the  law  for  redress,  but  must  needs 
call  around  him  hurriedly  his  knights  and  vassals,  take  down  his  sword,  and, 
mounting  the  fleetest  horses  at  his  command,  dash  madly  over  mountain  and 
plain,  through  forest  and  stream,  until  he  overtook  the  marauder,  and,  by 
superior  strength  and  skill,  put  him  to  death  and  rescued  his  household  treasures. 

The  War  of  the  Holy  Land.  (Page  450.) — The  illustration  on  this  page 
represents  the  Crusade,  or  war  for  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Land.  Palestine 
was  overrun  by  the  Saracens  under  Caliph  Omar,  who  effected  a  conquest  of 
the  country  and  captured  Jerusalem  A.  D.  1637.  The  Land  of  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre and  Church  of  the  Resurrection  continued  in  uninterrupted  possession 
of  the  Mussulmans  for  upwards  of  four  hundred  years.  In  1093  Peter  the 
Hermit  undertook  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  where  the  oppressions  which  he 
witnessed  and  experienced  awoke  his  indignation  and  determined  him  to  arouse 
the  people  of  Christendom  to  undertake  a  war  for  the  liberation  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  He  accordingly  returned,  and  encouraged  by  Pope  Urban  II.,  went 
through  Italy  and  France  inciting  the  people  to  take  up  arms  and  wrest  the 
Holy  Land  from  the  infidels.  An  immense  army  was  speedily  raised  and  under 
the  leadership  of  Peter  it  marched  for  the  Holy  Land.  A  part  of  it  separated 
from  the  rest,  under  the  leadership  of  "Walter  the  Penniless,  and  was  destroyed 
in  Bulgaria.  The  principal  division  reached  no  further  than  Nice,  where  it  was 
defeated  by  the  Moslems.  Subsequently  Peter  the  Hermit  was  associated  in  an 
expedition  with  Godfrey,  of  Bouillon.  While  the  Crusaders  were  besieged  in 
Antioch,  Peter  deserted,  but  was  captured  by  Tancred  and  brought  back.  He 
preached  a  sermon  to  the  Crusaders  on  the  Mount  of  Olives  on  the  Conquest 
of  Jerusalem.  He  afterwards  returned  to  Europe  and  founded  the  Abbey  of 
Neufmontier,  near  Hur,  where  he  died  in  n  15.  No  less  than  eight  crusades 
were  attempted,  making  an  almost  continuous  war  from  1096  to  1271,  in  which 
nearly  2,000,000  persons  are  believed  to  have  perished. 

On  the  Trail.  (Page  454.) — What  a  spectacle  is  here  presented.  A  party 
of  lords  and  ladies,  with  blaring  horns  and  yelling  hounds,  go  racing  across  the 
country  in  pursuit  of  a  helpless  hare  or  fox — one  of  God's  creatures,  which  He 
has  made  to  live  and  enjoy  its  short  life,  but  which  man  is  unwilling  to  leave 
unmolested.     It  is  not  sought  as  food,  but  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  watching 


572 


APPENDIX. 


his  frantic  endeavors  to  escape  the  teeth  of  the  hounds,  and  to  see  it  torn  and 
mangled  by  them.  And  the  ladies  will  pet  and  praise  them  for  their  share  in 
the  cruel  sport. 

The  Young  Princes  in  the  Tower.  (Page  465.) — This  picture,  from  a 
painting  by  Paul  Delaroche,  is  valuable  for  the  interest  in  history  which  it  is 
sure  to  awaken  in  children.  Their  childish  sympathy  goes  out  at  once  to  the 
fatherless  princes  and  they  are  certain  to  wish  to  know  and  read  more  about 
them.  This  interest  in  history  once  excited  may  lead  to  a  desire  for  knowledge 
that  will  change  the  whole  current  of  a  child's  life.  Many  eminent  clergymen, 
statesmen,  scholars,  and  in  fact  most  men  who  have  achieved  great  success  in 
any  position  in  life,  owe  it  to  the  influence  thrown  about  them  by  good  books 
during  their  early  years.  These  historical  pictures  are  special  features  of 
"  The  Pathway  of  Life,"  and  make  it  of  priceless  value  in  the  household  where 
children  are  to  be  trained  for  the  battle  of  life.  Delaroche  was  a  justly  cele- 
brated French  painter,  born  in  Paris  in  1797,  and  died  there  in  1856.  One  of 
his  works,  "  The  Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,"  was  purchased  by  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  for  52,000  francs.  His  greatest  work  is  his  fresco  of  the 
hemicycle  in  the  School  of  Fine  Arts,  representing  the  illustrious  masters  of 
art  of  all  ages.  It  contains  seventy-four  life-sized  figures  full  of  force  and 
expression,  and  it  cost  the  artist  four  years  of  incessant  labor.  In  1855  the 
picture  was  much  injured  by  fire,  and  the  anxiety  and  labor  of  restoring  it 
hastened  the  artist's  death. 

Capture  of  the  Bastile.  (Page  474.) — Few  historical  buildings  are  sur- 
rounded with  memories  so  fraught  with  horror  as  the  Bastile,  erected  by  Charles 
V.  in  1369,  at  Paris,  and  used  as  the  citadel  and  state  prison.  It  was  situated 
at  the  gate  of  St.  Antoine  and  had  eight  immense  round  towers,  connected  with 
massive  masonry,  the  whole  surrounded  by  a  wide  moat.  Around  the  moat  or 
ditch  was  a  high  wall  with  wooden  galleries,  guarded  by  sentinels.  The  adminis- 
tration of  the  Bastile  was  vested  in  a  governor  with  several  subordinates. 
One  hundred  men  composed  the  garrison.  Cells  were  situated  in  all  the  towers, 
the  walls  of  which  were  twelve  feet  thick  at  the  top  and  thirty  to  forty  feet  at 
the  base.  Three  iron  gratings  secured  the  small  aperture  in  the  wall,  leading 
to  each  cell,  the  bars  being  an  inch  thick  and  so  arranged  that  the  unobstructed 
openings  were  only  two  inches  square.  The  dungeons  were  nineteen  feet  below 
the  level  of  the  court  yard  and  five  feet  below  the  level  of  the  ditch,  with  which 
they  connected  by  a  narrow  loop-hole — the  only  opening.  As  this  ditch  carried 
off  the  sewerage  of  the  prison,  the  odors  were  insufferable.  The  state  paid 
liberally  for  the  maintenance  of  the  state  prisoners,  but  owing  to  the  abuses 
of  the  governor,  they  were  miserably  fed,  a  few  sous  being  expended  per  diem, 
when  the  allowance  for  each  prisoner  was  ample,  in  many  cases  as  much  as 
twenty-five  francs.  The  annals  of  history  may  be  ransacked  in  vain  for  instances 
of  penal  cruelty  parallel  to  those  inflicted  upon  the  unfortunate  inmates  of  the 
Bastile,  many  of  whom  were  put  there  without  accusation  or  trial,  cut  off  from 
all  communication  with  friends,  their  final  fate  often  unknown  to  the  world. 
Within  its  walls  died  Charles  de  Gontaut,  marshal  of  France.  Marshal  Richelieu, 
Voltaire  and  Latude  were  among  its  illustrious  prisoners.  Here  also  was  con- 
fined that  victim  of  Louis  XIV.,  the  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask,  whose  identity  is 


APPENDIX.  573 

even  now  shrouded  in  mystery.  On  the  occasion  described  by  the  engraving, 
the  infuriated  mob  razed  the  massive  towers  to  the  ground  and  filled  its  noisome 
dungeons  with  the  copings  of  its  battlements.  Among  the  persons  found  in 
the  cells  was  the  Count  de  Solage,  who  had  been  a  prisoner  since  his  eleventh 
year;  also  Tavernier,  who  had  for  thirty  years  suffered  untold  miseries  within 
its  gloomy  walls.  When  brought  into  the  light,  he  appeared  bewildered,  as 
one  awakened  from  a  dream. 

Queen  Catharine,  of  Aragon,  Denies  the  Right  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Court  to  Adjudge  her  Cause.  (Page  482.) — Another  great  historical  picture, 
illustrating  the  corruptions  of  court  life.  Henry's  reason  for  wishing  a  divorce 
from  Catharine  were  twofold.  She  had  been  his  brother's  wife,  and  his  marriage 
with  her  was  bitterly  opposed,  especially  by  Archbishop  Warham,  on  the  ground 
of  their  relationship.  Henry  was  superstitious  even  to  fanaticism.  During  the 
nine  years  of  their  union  the  Queen  had  twice  miscarried,  two  sons  died  imme- 
diately after  birth,  and  a  third  was  still-born.  The  Princess  Mary  was  the 
only  child  that  lived.  In  event  of  Henry's  death  without  an  heir  there  would 
ensue  an  immediate  contest  for  the  succession  between  the  Houses  of  York  and 
Tudor.  Henry  felt  that  his  repeated  misfortunes  and  failure  to  have  living 
male  issue  were  punishments  for  having  married  his  brother's  wife.  -  This  was 
strengthened  by  the  question  of  the  legitimacy  of  the  Princess  Mary,  raised 
by  the  French  Convoy,  her  marriage  with  a  French  Prince  having  been  spoken 
of  as  probable.  There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  Henry's  real  reason  for  wishing 
to  put  away  his  wife  was  his  attachment  for  Anne  Boleyn,  which  had  begun 
some  years  before  the  agitation  of  the  divorce  question.  In  spite  of  the  oppo- 
sition of  the  Pope  and  the  condemnation  of  the  people  generally,  Henry  married 
Anne,  and  only  three  years  later  discarded  her  for  Jane  Seymour.  The  story 
of  Henry  VIII.  and  his  six  wives  forms  an  interesting  portion  of  English 
history,  as  showing  the  corruption  of  court  life  under  Catholic  favor,  which 
can  be  pleasantly  contrasted  with  that  of  the  present  day  under  Protestant 
influence. 

Taking  up  a  Collection.  (Page  491.) — This  illustration  is  perhaps  the 
most  expressive  in  this  gallery  of  famous  pictures.  The  faces  are  a  study  and 
show  how  intimately  the  artist  was  acquainted  with  human  nature.  The  central 
figures  are  so  true  to  life. that  they  appear  like  familiar  faces  which  we  try  to 
recall.  Usually  they  are  perhaps  not  fond  of  song,  but  now,  with  the  contri- 
bution-box in  such  alarming  proximity,  their  souls  are  wrapped  up  in  the  hymn 
which  echoes  through  the  church,  and  they  appear  in  blissful  ignorance  of  its 
approach.  The  deacon  knows  this  and  smiles  grimly  as  he  pauses  before  them. 
What  a  trying  moment !  Will  they  see  him  and  respond  to  the  silent  appeal 
of  the  rather  empty  box  ?  We  find  ourselves  on  the  point  of  nudging  the  old 
gentleman  with  the  spectacles,  forgetting  that  it  is  only  a  picture.  But  even 
more  expressive  is  the  face  of  the  sturdy  figure  to  the  right  as  he  fumbles  in 
his  pocket.  His  acuteness  of  touch  is  evidently  put  to  a  severe  test  in  his 
efforts  to  select  the  smallest  coin  available,  and  the  look  in  his  eye  indicates 
a  nicety  of  calculation  that  will  prevent  the  calamity  of  contributing  a  $20  gold 
piece  when  a  very  small  penny  is  intended. 


574  APPENDIX. 

The  Grandmothers — Capital  and  Labor.  (Page  496.) — How  well  this  pic- 
ture illustrates  the  relationship  between  labor  and  capital.  Labor  must  ever 
dance  for  the  amusement  of  capital,  and  while  the  rich  look  on  and  enjoy  the 
sport,  with  strong  arms  they  hold  back  their  children  who  would  gladly  take 
part  in  the  amusements  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  working  men.  Yet  they  are 
mutually  dependent ;  without  labor  the  wealth  of  the  capitalist  would  avail 
nothing.  The  mills  would  cease,  the  factories  be  stopped,  and  his  wealth  would 
lie  idle  and  rust  away.  It  could  not  be  spent,  as  -there  would  be  no  food  pro- 
duced, nothing  manufactured  for  which  it  could  be  expended,  and  the  millionaire 
would  soon  be  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  toiling  in  the  field  to  provide  himself 
with  food ;  while  without  capital,  labor  would  be  idle — no  money  coming  in 
with  which  to  provide  the  necessities  of  life,  pay  rents  o*  buy  medicine  for  the  sick. 

Christianity  and  the  Dragon  of  Intemperance.  (Page  511.) — This  mag- 
nificent statue,  by  Miss  Grant,  truly  portrays  the  attitude  of  intemperance  toward 
mankind — that  of  a  hideous  dragon  which  seeks  to  destroy  both  body  and  soul, 
and  indicates  the  only  true  way  of  battling  with  it,  namely,  by  Christianity  and  the 
Cross.  Who  is  safe  from  the  snares  of  the  tempter  save  those  whose  hearts  daily 
ascend  heavenward  in  the  incense  of  prayer  ?  The  figure  at  whose  feet  the  monster 
cringes  stands  firm  in  the  consciousness  of  strength  received  from  011  high. 
Then  let  us  train  the  little  ones  not  to  be  lulled  into  fancied  security  and  to 
rely  on  their  individual  power  of  resistance,  but  to  cling  to  the  cross  and  keep 
constantly  on  the  alert  for  danger. 

Onward,  in  the  Name  of  Christ.  (Page  513.) — The  striking,  life-like 
statue  was  erected  in  honor  of  Agustiuo,  the  Maid  of  Saragossa,  who  distinguished 
herself  by  her  heroic  actions  during  the  siege  of  that  place  by  the  French  in 
1809.  She  participated  in  the  severest  encounters,  and,  on  one  occasion,  snatched 
a  match  from  the  hands  of  a  dying  artilleryman  and  discharged  the  piece  at  the 
invaders  ;  she  was  made  a  lieutenant  in  the  Spanish  army  and  received  several 
decorations.  Lord  Byron  has  made  her  famous  in  his  "  Childe  Harold."  She 
died  at  Cueta,  Spain,  in  June,  1857,  at  a  great  age. 

The  Family  Circle.  (Page  520.) — This  picture  brings  vividly  to  mind  the 
scenes  of  boyhood  days,  when  the  family  used  to  gather  in  the  old  sitting-room 
at  home  and  listen  to  grandpa's  stories  or  watch  father's  silhouette  pictures  on 
the  wall,  brought  into  clear  relief  by  the  bright  candle-light.  What  antics  the 
rabbits  and  dogs  indulged  in,  and  how  wildly  the  birds  flapped  their  wings,  and 
what  mysterious  gyrations  the  donkey's  head  executed,  being  minus  a  body,  to 
say  nothing  of  tail  and  legs.  And  how  the  entertainment  was  sometimes  varied 
by  exhibitions  not  on  the  programme.  For  instance,  when  brother  Tom,  sup- 
posing us  all  absorbed  in  the  exhibition  on  the  wall,  kissed  the  parson's  daugh- 
ter, not  thinking  that  the  light  was  behind  them  ;  and  when  Tabbie,  the  staid 
house-cat,  made  a  very  inhospitable  and  uncalled  for  assault  on  the  deacon's 
dog,  her  tail  as  it  appeared  on  the  wall,  having  swollen  to  alarming  proportions. 
No  wonder  that  we  slept  soundly  and  that  our  digestive  apparatuses  performed 
their  functions  with  marvellous  ease  and  accuracy ;  an  evening  spent  in  the 
family  circle  was  sufficient  to  drive  dyspepsia  to  the  verge  of  despair  and  send 
him  off  with  the  pouts  for  a  month  to  come. 


APPENDIX.  575 

The  Circle  Complete.  (Page  524.) — A  small  picture,  yet  one  containing  a 
world  of  meaning.  These  old  people  have  journeyed  through  life  together, 
sharing  its  joys,  sorrows,  triumphs  and  defeats,  and  now,  in  the  winter  of  old 
age,  they  draw  nearer  to  each  other  ;  their  hearts  steadfast  and  true  as  in  the 
spring-time  of  life.  They  look  back  over  their  past  lives  and  contemplate  with 
satisfaction  the  good  they  have  done.  The  time  is  near  for  their  departure  to  the 
evergreen  shore,  and  they  look  forward  to  it  with  trembling  eagerness.  Many 
of  their  children  have  gone  before ;  friends  have  left  their  side  never  to  return  ; 
father  and  mother  await  theru  with  outstretched  arms ;  verily  they  have  more 
friends  there  than  here — more  ties  to  be  renewed  than  severed — and,  best 
of  all,  Christ  is  looking  for  them,  He  in  whom  the}'  have  trusted  so  long,  who 
has  buoyed  them  up  through  the  crushing  agony  of  separation  from  children 
and  friends,  and  with  whom  they  will  soon  dwell  "  beside  the  still  waters."  Let 
us  all  so  live  that  our  end  will  be  like  this,  full  of  peace  and  joy. 

The  Last  Toilet  of  Charlotte  Corday.  (Page  525.) — Another  picture  to 
awaken  in  the  hearts  of  young  people  a  desire  for  information .  which  should  be 
cultivated  and  strengthened  in  every  possible  way.  Ward  is  a  celebrated  English 
painter,  born  in  London  in  18 16.  His  works  are  numerous  and  of  great  merit. 
He  is  especially  successful  in  historical  representations.  He  painted  eight  pic- 
tures for  the  corridors  of  the  House  of  Commons.  He  studied  in  Rome,  where 
he  gained  a  silver  medal  from  the  Academy  of  St.  Luke  in  1838. 

The  Roman  Theatre  and  Race-Course.  (Page  526.) — Amusements  among 
the  Romans  were  cultivated  equally  with  the  exciting  and  more  stirring  arts  of 
war.  Indeed,  the  one  was  subsidiary  to  the  other,  each  having  its  purpose  of 
firing  the  public  heart  and  stimulating  to  deeds  of  heroism.  The  Great  Amphi- 
theatre was  established  not  only  to  seat  a  crowd  willing  to  be  amused  by  horse, 
foot  and  chariot  races,  but  also  to  afford  a  vantage  view  of  contests  of  a  more 
thrilling  nature.  It  was  here  that  the  wildest  events  sometimes  transpired  that 
set  the  great  audience  to  thundering  their  prolonged  applause.  Soldiers,  cap- 
tives, in  whom  the  •  martial  spirit  predominated,  and  who  were  glad  of  every 
occasion  to  measure  arms  with  formidable  or  famed  adversaries,  often  engaged  in 
bloody  encounters  in  this  arena,  fighting  with  short  swords  at  an  arm's  length, 
and  hewing  through  coats  of  mail  until  blood  and  desperate  wounds  would  end 
the  battle.  It  was  in  such  terrible  scenes  as  these  that  the  Romans  found  their 
greatest  amusements,  and  by  which  the  Roman  youths  were  made  wildly  ambi- 
tious to  engage  in  war,  so  that  every  Roman  became  a  soldier. 

The  Faithful  Servant.  (Page  533.) — This  illustration,  representing  a  lost 
child  asleep  with  the  chill  of  approaching  death,  is  one  of  pity-compelling  influ- 
ence, exciting  compassion  alike  for  the  freezing  child  and  the  faithful  dog  that 
stands  before  the  merciless  blasts  of  dashing  sleets  and  cutting  wind,  calling 
for  help,  pleading  for  succor.  But  the  Good  Shepherd  cares  for  His  sheep,  and 
He  will  hear  the  watch-dog's  signal  sounding  above  the  storm,  and  He  will  climb 
the  mountain  side,  cleave  a  pathway  through  snow  and  towering  rocks,  and  wrap 
about  the  cold  form  of  this  lost  angel  a  mantle  warm  with  His  love,  and  press 
to  the  chill  lips  a  stimulant  of  sympathy  that  will  revive  and  wake  the  lost  child ; 
and  the  storm  will  cease,  the  clouds  will  blow  past,  and  the  sun  will  pour  out 
splendors,  for  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  so  cometh  in  the  hour  of  greatest  need. 


576  APPENDIX. 

Home  at  Last.  (Page  535.) — This  touching  picture  calls  to  mind  memo- 
ries of  the  past,  when  the  dear  mother,  who  has  long  since  passed  to  her  eternal 
rest,  used  to  come  home  from  market,  tired  and  foot-sore  with  the  ejaculation, 
thankfully  uttered,  "Home  at  Last!"  The  old  lady  in  the  picture  has  evidently 
been  away  from  home  all  day,  and  on  her  return  the  house  cat  meets  her  with 
tail  erect,  purring  a  welcome  to  the  humble  home,  while  the  geese  follow  her 
with  noisy  clamor,  anticipating  their  evening  allowance  of  corn.  All  are  glad 
to  see  her,  and  she  is  glad  to  be  at  home  again.  ( 

The  Song  of  Miriam.  (Page  539.) — This  admirable  engraving  represents 
the  most  joyful  occasion  in  Israelitish  history.  We  seem  to  almost  hear  the 
shouts  of  exultation  and  the  hymns  of  praise  offerings  floating  up  from  Miriam 
and  her  choristers  in  honor  of  their  escape  from  a  bondage  oppressive  as  it  was 
long.  The  august  Moses  and  his  eloquent  brother  Aaron  are  performing  that 
miraculous  act  which  resulted  in  the  destruction  of  Pharaoh's  hosts  and  the  salva- 
tion of  the  Jews,  whose  yokes  were  lifted  by  the  Omnipotent  arm  that  finally 
punishes  the  wrongs  and  rewards  the  virtues  of  all  the  children  of  men.  The 
rich  robes  of  Miriam  represent  the  perfection  attained  by  the  Egyptians  in  the 
art  of  weavings,  for  history,  as  written  in  the  relics  uncovered  from  buried  cities 
of  Egypt,  gives  us  to  know  that  nearly  all  the  arts  with  which  we  are  now  familiar 
were  quite  as  well  understood  by  the  ancient  Egyptians. 

The  Young  Hopeful.  (Page  542.) — How  fades  the  glories  of  this  world 
before  the  mutations  of  time !  Here  we  have  a  reproduction  of  Montegazzo's 
great  picture,  representing  the  presentation  of  the  infant  Dauphin  of  France  to 
the  Court  of  Louis  XIV.  A  great  event  was  the  birth  of  this  child,  with  the 
glory  of  rulership  before  him,  a  nation  ready  to  fall  at  his  infant  feet.  But  the 
changes  of  time  brought  more  than  its  share  to  this  poor  baby,  whose  little  feet 
were  destined  to  wear  out  the  floor  of  a  prison  cell  rather  than  tread  the  soft  velvet 
of  a  throne-room,  and  whose  brow  was  to  bear  a  felon  brand  rather  than  wear  a 
golden  crown ;  whose  wrists  became  abraded  by  iron  gyves  instead  of  decorated 
with  circlets  of  diamonds.  What  a  lesson  of  the  mutability  of  human  affairs ! 
the  hopes,  prospects,  ambitions;  for  saith  the  preacher  truly,  "All  is  vanity." 
The  only  sure  hope,  the  only  true  prospect,  the  only  safe  ambition,,  is  that  which 
looketh  upward,  ay,  heavenward. 

Good-Night.  (Page  544.) — This  is  indeed  a  fitting  picture  for  the  last  page 
of  this  grand  book.  As  your  friend  goes  forth  into  the  storm  and  darkness, 
you  stand  with  lantern  held  high  in  the  air,  hoping  to  cast  a  glimmer  of  light 
that  will  guide  his  footsteps  in  the  right  path.  May  the  lessons  and  counsels 
of  this  book  be  a  light  unto  your  feet  as  you  journey  along  "  The  Pathway  of 
Life,"  and  enable  you  to  keep  in  the  narrow  path  that  will  bring  you  out  safe  on 
the  shores  of  eternity,  with  the  beautiful  city  before  you,  and  the  boatman  ready 
to  ferry  you  to  the  land  where  there  will  be  no  more  darkness,  no  more  tempta- 
tions, no  more  sorrow  and  pain. 


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